


Partners

by ddagent



Series: The 'Partners' Collection [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Academy Era, F/M, Friendship, Pre-Series, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 05:42:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 57,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2055891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Academy cadet Melinda May expects to be assigned with a fellow specialist after Graduation. When a provisional list says otherwise, Melinda decides to prove that she and her future partner are not a good match. But as she gets to know field agent Phil Coulson, Melinda realises they are perfect together in more ways than one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Agents of SHIELD or any of its characters, or settings - all belongs to Marvel and ABC.
> 
> Huge, huge thank you to the talented and wonderful suallenparker for her help and support in this story. Seriously, I don't have the words to thank you properly. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy this!

It was a covert mission performed in the dead of night, with no back up and no extraction plan. Barton kept watch for enemy hostiles whilst May went in under the cover of darkness and broke into the stronghold. As it became clear they were alone, Barton joined May in their mission: uncovering important information that would lead to the safety and success of many future operations.

 

“Barton, bring that flashlight over here, I can’t see a damn thing.”

 

He came quickly, shining the flashlight over the filing cabinet she was searching through. Switching on one of the desk lamps would make things easier, but they didn’t want to alert anyone to their presence. After realising the document they sought wasn’t in the personnel files, May turned her attention to the desks. They were a mess; stacks of paper and half-drunk coffee mugs everywhere. But if there was one thing May knew it was that nothing was as it appeared.

 

Grabbing the flashlight from Barton, May angled it just right to reveal the invisible thread crisscrossing an inch over the desk. “Well that’s smart. But we’re smarter.”

 

Using a pencil from her pack, Melinda gently slid pieces of paper out and back to reveal their contents. At the bottom of the stack she eventually found the document she was after. Taking her time, she gently eased it off the desk without disturbing the thread. She handed it to Barton. “A copy, and quickly.”

 

“Yes ma’am.”

 

Melinda turned to her watch, keeping her eye on the time to make sure they didn’t overrun. They had a set time for this mission and a second could be the difference between success and failure. Thankfully Barton returned promptly: the copy folded into a sealed envelope, the original handed back to her. They both held their breath as she eased the document back underneath the stack. When that was done, they made sure everything looked undisturbed before retreating to their safe house.

 

\--

 

Two days ago, in morning assembly, the near graduates had received some interesting news. Agent Harding, head of Operations at the SHIELD Academy, had informed them that a provisional list of placing’s for all sixty three graduates had been compiled. That included those who would be paired to different sections, those who would be paired to each other and those that would flunk out before even reaching graduation. With two weeks left until their training concluded, everyone was desperate to get an idea of just what their future held. All anyone had talked about was trying to break into Harding’s office to retrieve that list.

 

May and Barton had known better and had aimed their assault at the Administration Wing. Suffice to say, while Agents Durham and Pratt were currently undergoing punishment for getting caught, they were now in possession of the list that would, essentially, decide their future with SHIELD.

 

Rather than head back to one of their rooms, where spot checks were a regular occurrence, they ran back to Clint’s hiding spot in the attic above the main lecture hall. It was where he kept all his contraband and had been a place that he, Melinda and Maria could escape to when things became too much. Now, with two weeks till graduation, it became the spot where they would start their future careers.

 

Clint dumped his bag and dug out the envelope in his pocket. Tearing open the end, he eased the document out. “I’m not sure if I want to look.”

 

“Clint, last time I checked, this was _your_ idea.”

 

He glared at her. “I know. I’m just freaked out, okay? I could end up working security at the Fridge or, _worse,_ end up here for another four years. At least you know who you’re gonna be partners with after graduation.”

 

Melinda smiled and took the paper from him. “I know. But, you never know, they may stick me and Harlow in the middle of nowhere.”

 

Within Operations, there were field agents and there were specialists. She and Nate Harlow were in the top five percent of Specialists, working well in both the staged operations organised by SHIELD and back at their bunks in the middle of the night. Melinda wasn’t sentimental; she didn’t expect a marriage proposal and children with Harlow. But they worked too well together to be anything other than together.

 

Clint, however, didn’t have that feeling of security. Melinda skimmed the list until she found BARTON, CLINT and looked up to see where he would be assigned. “Congratulations, Agent Barton. You’re being assigned to the Treehouse.”

 

Her friend practically ripped the document out of her hands as he took in his assignment in black and white. Melinda could see the relief in Clint’s shoulders, the worry dropping from his face. With him at ease, her friend flicked through the pages until he foundMAY, MELINDA. He was rolling his eyes, making a great show of checking until he paused. He pulled the paper up to his face, squinting to read in the dim light.

 

“Clint, Clint don’t _do_ that. What’s wrong?”

 

He swallowed. “Sorry, Mel. I just needed to check that my eyesight wasn’t going. Congratulations. You’ve been assigned to the Triskelion.”

 

Her mouth gaped open as she took in the news. _The Triskelion?_ She’d imagined the Cube, the Hub, maybe operating out of a field office in a war zone. But not SHIELD’s headquarters. Only a handful, barely a handful, of new recruits were assigned there. She couldn’t believe it. But as she looked back at Clint, she noticed he wasn’t as happy for her as she had been for him.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

Clint sighed, and handed her the document. “You’re not assigned with Harlow.”

 

“ _What_?” She snatched the outstretched paper from Clint and found her name.

 

MAY, MELINDA – TRISKELION DEPLOYMENT, ASSIGNED WITH COULSON, PHILLIP.

 

It was a mistake. It had to be a mistake. Flicking through the paper, she tried to find Harlow. Maybe they were all part of a team assigned to the Triskelion. She found the page, her finger stabbing the paper as she scanned for his name.

 

HARLOW, NATE – HUB DEPLOYMENT, ASSIGNED WITH STRIKE TEAM KAPPA.

 

This had to be a mistake, a fake document left by Harding to throw off those who attempted to raid the Administration building. The instructors couldn’t have seriously paired her and Harlow off differently, could they? Melinda skimmed the rest of the document, trying to ascertain whether she had been assigned as part of a group to the Triskelion. But she wasn’t. The only two who had been assigned to SHIELD headquarters were her and Coulson.

 

“Sorry, Mel,” Clint offered, easing the document out of her tight grip. “Hey, you’re still assigned to the goddamn _Triskelion!_ So what if it’s with Coulson?”

 

She raised her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as she tried to collect her thoughts. Her mind was a mess, and it was hard to breathe in the stuffy attic. But she still managed to hiss out an answer. “Coulson’s a field agent, Clint, not a specialist. His future is organising operations rather than being on them. Harlow’s working with a goddamn strike team, and I’ll be liaising with other agencies out of D.C.”

 

Feeling more collected, Melinda gathered herself to her feet and started to pace. She didn’t have many classes with Coulson: Hand to Hand, Weapons Management and Misrepresentation Studies. He was a nice enough guy, hard worker, but mostly kept to himself. But the first six months after they left the Academy were crucial in establishing their career trajectory. Being stuck with Coulson arguing with local police forces that were too much of a nuisance was not how she wanted to start.

 

“Are they punishing me, Clint? Did I do something, am I failing so badly at something that they’re sticking me with Coulson? Oh god, what if he’s my babysitter, trying to get me into Administration?”

 

Clint kicked at her heels, knocking her out of her stride. “Mel, shut up. You’re an incredible specialist; maybe they’re just trying to broaden your horizons? Anyway, if it bothers you that much, do something about it.”

 

 “Like what?”

 

Her friend grinned, the same grin that had led them to superglue the firing pins of the new recruits last week. “I’m just saying, do something about it. We’ve got two weeks until graduation, and this is a provisional list. Make the instructors and Harding see that you and Coulson wouldn’t be a good match, but that you and Harlow are. Shouldn’t be that hard. Just knock Coulson on his ass a few times.”

 

She could do that. Such issues were probably why Harding had told them about the list in the first place. Anyone wanting to change their posting could do so, if they had the right strategy and technique. If there was anything Melinda May had, it was that. She shaped her destiny, her future. And she knew without a shadow of a doubt that her future didn’t lie with Phil Coulson.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Agents of SHIELD or any of its characters, or settings - all belongs to Marvel and ABC.
> 
> Another huge thank you to suallenparker who really helped with this chapter. The Wet Coulsons of the world thank you. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter just as much as the last!

With only two weeks till graduation, Melinda only had a small window to show just how poorly she and Coulson would work together. Her first chance came the following morning in Hand to Hand. The class was split into two sections: the first the instruction of a new move, the second a hand to hand tournament. The winner would perform the final demonstration of the class with a partner of their choice. Most of the time that was her and Harlow.  

 

Today, however, Melinda was determined to choose a different partner.  

 

Throughout class her gaze turned towards Coulson. He was taller than her, slim but not weedy. He was dedicated, studious, and tried hard when Agent Layton explained the new move to the class. He was paired with Garrett, a loud mouthed bully compared to Coulson’s earnest approach. Melinda wondered how the hell they had become friends. As she watched Garrett drop Coulson to his knees with a dirty left kick, she wondered how the instructors thought she and him would make a good pair.

 

“May, you okay?” Harlow asked, sliding his thick forearm against her throat, his other hand pressed against the curve of her ass. “Missed you last night.”

 

“Not here.”

 

Her elbow slammed into his side, and Melinda managed to execute the twist needed to toss Harlow over her shoulder and onto the mats. She ended the move with the proper stance, smiling until Harlow swiped his leg out. She managed to jump out of his way, but her landing was unsteady and she bumped into one of the recruits next to her. _Coulson._

 

“Sorry.” It was probably the tenth word she’d said to him all year.

 

He grinned back at her. “You’re fine.”

 

With another smile, Coulson went back to getting his ass kicked by Garrett. Melinda offered Harlow her hand, dragging him up to the mats where they had another go, this time Melinda as the attacker. She was a lot skinnier than Harlow, and he found it difficult to land the starting blow of the move. By the time Layton called for the start of the tournament, Harlow had only tossed her on her back once. He, however, was where he usually was. Underneath her.

 

The tournament was easy, Melinda winning the first two rounds against Avery and Bishop. Harlow rose just as quickly through the rounds. Even Coulson struck a victory against Griffin in his first match, managing to knock him down to the mats with a kick to his kidneys. She’d almost been impressed. However he’d been knocked out by Garrett, who Melinda faced in her third round. For her he’d been too easy, the asshole too busy staring at her legs to bother making a proper attack. She faced Harlow in the final round, trying a little harder than usual to knock him out.

 

When his back hit the mats, she looked up at Layton. She was impressed by their performance. “Very good, May. And you too, Harlow. Take a breather, both of you, and then we’ll finish up.”

 

Melinda grabbed her towel from the side and dabbed her forehead. She took a few sips of water, preparing for what would come next. She could see Harlow getting ready too, his lips moving as he tried to recall how to fall right, how to flip her over. Her eyes darted towards Coulson, his own gaze fixed on the ceiling. Poor kid didn’t know what would hit him.

 

“Okay, May, if you’d like to perform today’s move? I take it Harlow will be joining you on the mats?”

 

Out of the corner of her eye, Harlow stood up ready. “Actually, Agent Layton, I’d like a new challenge. Coulson, perhaps?”

 

It took Garrett nudging him in the ribs for Coulson to realise she’d actually chosen him. His bottom lip opened, and then closed just as quickly as he scrambled to his feet. He took his time in walking to the mats in the middle of the room, as if he was walking to a firing squad. Their audience whispered, even chuckled as they watched Coulson try to take on Melinda May. She paid them no attention, instead focussed her energy on proving that she and Coulson were not of the same calibre.

 

“You ready?” she asked him.

 

His smile was thin, his head jerking erratically as he nodded. “Why not?”

 

Melinda stood straight, Coulson slipping behind her. His arm wasn’t as thick as Harlow’s, but it still tightened around her throat. In all the time she’d spent at the Academy, this was probably the closest she’d ever been to Phil Coulson. He smelt like sweat with a hint of cheap aftershave. It wasn’t an unpleasant combination.

 

She threw her left elbow down, hitting him low. As expected, he jerked from the blow and she threw him over her shoulder easily. Coulson let out a grunt as his back hit the mat. The whisperings and stifled laughter of the class rose an octave, no one surprised by what had transpired. But Coulson got to his feet, stood and waited for her to throw her arm around his throat. Harlow had thrown her once, Garrett had tried and failed. She expected a few frustrating attempts at the elbow before Coulson gave up entirely.

 

“When you’re ready, Agent Coulson.”

 

On Layton’s cue, Melinda felt Coulson tense. The next thing she knew, his heel collided with her knee. She then felt her balance shift, and then her back hit the mat. Melinda gasped for air, trying to recover the oxygen that had been knocked out of her lungs. She looked up at Coulson, standing like he couldn’t believe what he’d done. He offered her his hand but she got to her feet herself. His open hand hovered between them, obvious and untaken.

 

“Nice improvisation,” she muttered. Neither Harlow nor Garrett had considered that the elbow wouldn’t work with her. “Sloppy, but nice.”

 

With the fight over, Layton dismissed the class. A few heads turned towards them, the whispers growing into proper conversations as soon as the recruits hit the door. Melinda grabbed her bag, Harlow grabbed her arm. They both hurried for the door together, leaving Coulson alone in the training room. Outside, her mind churned. Melinda wasn’t sure what distressed her more: that Coulson had ruined her attempts to prove that their pairing was useless, or that he had actually impressed her with his skills.

 

\--

 

The bathrooms at the Academy were all communal, with plastic walls and rusty nozzles. The grimy shower curtains were used to maintain privacy and common decency in regards to some of the more amorous students. But despite the clinical surroundings, it was a good place to think and a good place to fuck.

 

Under the powerful spray, Melinda dug her nails into Harlow’s back as he fucked her against the shower wall. Nearly after every Hand to Hand class they would end up here, screwing away the rest of their pent up energy and washing away the sweat of the previous class. With the hot water streaming over her head and the sensation of Harlow buried inside her, it didn’t take much to make Melinda come.

 

When they were both spent, Harlow left the stall first to dispose of the evidence. Grabbing her towel, Melinda joined him outside in the now empty bathroom. She watched Harlow towel down, admiring his form. He was one of the tallest in their year, with thick arms spent from too many off hours in the gym. She liked the strength he displayed in his arms, his chest. She ran her hand over his body, grinning as he flexed for her.

 

“You know, I’m looking forward to getting out of this place. Means we won’t have to sneak around so much to have fun.”

 

Melinda’s hand stopped its progression at the towel held around his waist. “Do you really think we’ll be stationed together once we graduate?”

 

“Course we will. We’re in the top seven percent of our year, and everyone knows we’re practically the perfect pair.” It was Harlow’s turn to play with the towel around her body, plying her hands off the cloth to drop it to the floor. Suddenly it was his arms keeping her modesty in check. “Who else are they gonna put us with, huh? I don’t see you with Garrett, or you with Coulson.”

 

Melinda thought back to the class that she had nearly managed to forget. She still couldn’t believe how he’d flipped her. “He was quite impressive today.”

 

“He cheated; the move was to hit with the elbow.”

 

“The instructors won’t see it that way. Following orders will only you get so far. Innovation will get you the rest.”

 

Sliding out of his grasp, Melinda picked up her towel from the floor and started drying herself. Harlow pulled back and began to dress. By the time they were both dry and clothed, they hadn’t spoken a single word.

 

“I’ve got a study period, and then Weapons Management.” She touched his arm through his t-shirt. “See you tonight?”

 

He nodded, pulling away and heading for the door. “See you tonight.”

 

Melinda didn’t know whether he was mad that she’d defended Coulson, or just plain mad that it had only taken Coulson one attempt what it had taken him five. Either way, that was his problem. She was too busy making sure that once they graduated they would be together.

 

\--

 

“Hey, Melinda.”

 

May felt a thin trickle of revulsion run down her spine as she heard Garrett approach the weapons range. He was a cretin with greased hair who seemed to spend the same amount of hours in the gym as Harlow but without the same results. While Harlow was dark and defined, Garett was pasty and sloppy. She would feel a little sorry for the effort he tried to put in if he was anything other than a bully.

 

“What do you want, Garrett?” she asked, her back pressed tight against the wall.

 

He grinned at her, the toothpick he was chewing leaving some spittle on his bottom lip. “Nothin’ much, just wanted to say how much I loved seeing you on your back in class. Normally I don’t see you on your back unless I’m on mine…” Garrett followed through with a hand gesture, his dirty chuckle following him as he walked past.

 

Swallowing down the bile that tried to forge its way up her throat, Melinda let out a hiss. “Asshole.”

 

“Couldn’t agree more.”

 

She hadn’t noticed Coulson standing beside her in the line for their afternoon class. He was grinning at her, his hair wet from a shower between classes, the same as hers. His hands were gripping the strap of his bag, almost as if he was nervous to put them anywhere else. She was staring, and she knew she should look at something else. But the awkwardness had set in now, and it was hard to break from it. They both laughed, before Coulson thankfully jumped in to save them.

 

“How’s your knee?”

 

She started blankly at him for a moment until she realised he was talking about their class this morning. “It’s fine.”

 

“Good.” He was still clutching his shoulder strap tight. “I was concerned that I’d hit it too hard or too wrong…I mean, I know you’re practically Captain America but…” Coulson paused, his lips pulling together tight. “Knees are funny things.”

 

Melinda smiled at him as the line for their class entered the weapons range. He was nice, but she knew that already. Still trying to show their inability to work together, Melinda took the stall next to Coulson’s. She’d never really paid attention to his skills on the firing range before. Maybe he was a poor shot.

 

“I was surprised you picked me this morning,” Coulson said as they started the opener of the lesson: dismantling and cleaning their guns. “You usually go for Harlow.”

 

Melinda shrugged, trying to play it off. He’d taken apart the weapon as quickly as she did, maybe even a second faster. Her estimation of Phil Coulson was certainly rising. “I’d already sparred with Harlow. Wanted a new challenge. Surprisingly you were…challenging.”

 

“I’m full of surprises.”

 

After their weapons were serviced, then came putting them back together in working order. Morton three stalls over was top of the class, although Melinda was in the top ten percent. She put hers together as quickly as she could, exchanging glances with Coulson as they seemed to race against each other. With no Harlow, Hill or Barton in this class, she mostly kept to herself. It was nice to talk to someone for once.

 

With the clip put in place, Melinda raised it high. Beside her, Coulson did the same. She let off a round, hitting the target in front of her dead on. Coulson made a motion to squeeze the trigger, but nothing happened. When Melinda looked closer at his gun, she realised something was missing.

 

“The trigger’s still on the table.”

 

A fine pink blush started to creep up the back of Coulson’s neck. “I realise that now. Obviously I’m distracted.”

 

“Anything I can help with?”

 

He turned to her as he started dismantling his gun again. “No, I’ll work through it.”

 

Once his gun was in fully working order, she and Coulson began target practice. He was good, _very good_. His grouping was one of the best she’d seen. Hers was a little sloppy: this time it was her getting distracted. She was mesmerised watching Coulson fire a gun: the way his eyes narrowed, the way his arms tensed. Unlike Garrett, Coulson had some definition in his arms.

 

“You’re staring.”

 

Melinda let off six rounds in a tight grouping, the best she’d done all class. “You talk too much.”

 

After they watched Morton play with one of the new toys produced by Sci-Tech, the class was let out. Her next class was a seminar on stamina and healthy eating, something they pushed for a lot in the final two weeks of the year. It would be boring, but the punishment for skipping was laps at two am. As she came out of class, she felt a hand on her elbow. _Coulson._

 

“Hi again.”

 

“Hi.”

 

His hands were tight around his bag strap again: they’d seemed more at ease on the handle of his gun. “Where you heading to next?”

 

“Seminar. You?”

 

“Local and Global Agencies and Departments. I’d prefer the seminar if you want to switch.”

 

As tempting as it was, she knew Maria would be in her next class. “Maybe next time. See you around, Coulson.”

 

She headed down the corridor, winding her way through people in search of Lecture Hall B. Before she turned off, she looked back for some reason. Coulson was standing there, looking at his timetable. His eyes lifted the same time hers swept across the hall. She had one glimpse of him smiling at her before her view was blocked by a swarm of cadets.

 

\--

 

As expected, the seminar was boring. Lots of talk about exercises and muscle tone and the right foods and beverages to keep momentum. It was the same talk they had been given last year only this time the greeting included ‘seniors’. Halfway through the seminar, Melinda’s mind started straying to Coulson. She wondered if he found his class as boring as hers.

 

Once class was out, she and Maria threaded through the halls and headed up to the attic where they found Clint already waiting with contraband soft drinks and chocolate bars. They didn’t know how he brought it in, they didn’t ask. Clint’s contraband stash was definitely a Level Two secret, which none of them [including Clint] was cleared for.

 

“So, did you hear that Huang and Gerrard tried for Harding’s office while he was in the Mess?” Maria asked, claiming a Hershey bar from the box. “He caught them before they could even search. Apparently they were going to be working from the Treehouse, _now_ they’re doing security detail at the Sandbox.”

 

Melinda and Clint kept quiet, focussing on the bounty of the box rather than on Maria. So she kept talking. “I still can’t believe no one’s taken the damn thing yet. How hard is it to break in and steal the list?” Still nothing. “You sons of bitches, when the hell did you take it?”

 

Clint snorted, digging deep into a bag of cheese balls. Melinda reached over and passed Maria the list. “Bright and early this morning from the Administration wing. No one’s looking there.”

 

Maria glared as she took the list. “You’re only _now_ telling me? Fuck you both. Am I stuck here for the next four years?” She skimmed the list until she found her name. “I’m at the Cube. Thank fuck for that. Where are you two?”

 

“Treehouse,” Clint said with a mouthful of cheese balls. “Agent May here’s been assigned to the Triskelion.”

 

Maria’s eyes went wide as she turned to her friend. “Are you kidding me? Damn, they must have a lot of faith in you and Harlow. God, you’ll be playing with the big kids at the Triskelion.”

 

Melinda turned to Clint to see if he was going to break the news to Maria. When he seemed more content stuffing his face full of orange corn puffs, she decided to explain. “Harlow’s been assigned to the Hub. Coulson is coming with me to the Triskelion.”

 

Maria paused, checking through the list a couple of times to find Harlow and Coulson’s names. She then put the list aside and turned to her friend. “The Triskelion is a big honour. Why they’re assigning you with someone you’ve never really worked with I’m not sure.”

 

“Who cares?” Clint said, his teeth orange as he grinned. “You’re being assigned to the goddamn centre ring, Mel. Just enjoy it!”

 

“I care, Clint. I think the last time, other than today, that I had an actual conversation with Phil Coulson was in the infirmary when Maria sent Garrett there.”

 

Across the room, Maria laughed. “Oh yeah. That was the last time he grabbed my ass. So worth the laps for breaking three of his ribs.”   

 

At least Maria understood where she was coming from. She still couldn’t comprehend why she had been assigned there with Coulson of all people. He was a good agent, he proved that today. He didn’t share any of Garrett’s annoying traits, for which she was thankful. But there wasn’t any of the chemistry, the symmetry that she shared with Harlow. They were an obvious pairing, a fruitful pairing – why were they being separated?

 

“I know it’ll probably get you into trouble, but you could go and talk to Harding about it? Find out where he’s coming from?” Maria suggested, digging out a can of root beer. “He’s got to have some purpose behind this. I mean, Coulson’s in the top five percent of field agents, top seven percent of our year. He may be a dork, but he’s got skills.”

 

Melinda agreed. Still, asking to be assigned with Harlow would be a black mark against them both. While she was sure that everyone knew they were sleeping together, discretion was needed for it to not impact their work. “I think I’ll stick with what I’m doing. Working with Coulson, proving that they made a mistake in pairing us together.”

 

“Sounds like a plan. Plus, if the worst happens and the postings don’t change, at least you won’t be going into it blind.”

 

Maria was right. This was the only logical course of action. She just needed to step up her game.

 

\--

 

Walking back from the attic, Melinda tried to come up with ways to prove that she and Coulson weren’t a good fit. Pairing up in Hand to Hand would no doubt upset Harlow, but at least the instructors would see that there was no fluidity in the way her and Coulson fought. She could do it in Weapons Management too: if she could push herself a little further ahead then it would look like Coulson couldn’t keep up. She didn’t feel good about doing this, but it wasn’t as if she was trying to replace Coulson with Harlow. She would be more than happy at the Hub.

 

Melinda finally reached the accommodation block, bypassing the main door for a screen window round the back of the block. She pulled herself onto the ledge, finding the hollowed out brick and the screwdriver that went with it. The two bolts that fixed the screen to the wall came out easily, as they always did. She’d used this entrance for three years now, one of several she used for practice. The screws would go back in tomorrow after her morning run and no one would be the wiser.

 

After putting the screen temporarily back in place, Melinda slid down onto the floor of the Senior Men’s bathroom. She paused, gaining her bearings as she took in her environment. None of the showers were on; just a persistent drip that suggested someone had been in there recently. No whistling, no towels rustling. If there was someone in there, it would be best for all parties involved if she left quickly and quietly.

 

Exhaling slowly, Melinda placed one foot around the corner of the first shower stall, and then the other. She gave one final check to the screen before moving forward. A mistake, as she walked straight into a very wet and very naked cadet. She tried to move back quickly, but that only resulted in her tennis shoes slipping on the wet floor. The cadet reached out and grabbed her, stopping her from smacking her head on tile. She prayed to whoever would listen that it wasn’t John Garrett in the bathroom.

 

The universe had a funny way of giving her what she wanted. “Agent Coulson.”

 

“Agent May.”

 

Since reading the stationing document, Melinda had somehow become hyper aware of Phil Coulson and his presence in the Academy. She’d snuck in that bathroom countless times over the years and never met a single soul, let alone Coulson. A dripping wet Coulson, whose dark hair was plastered to his scalp. His arms, also wet, were wrapped around her hips to stop her from falling. Her hands were pressed against his upper arms. They were as interesting to watch holding her as they had been on the range.

 

“I should probably let you go now.”

 

“Probably.”

 

Coulson followed through, releasing the hold on her body when he was sure she was stable on her feet. As he pulled away, he adjusted the towel around his waist, making sure it wasn’t likely to slip. She’d never considered Phil Coulson much at all. But seeing him close up she realised he was handsome. Boy Scout handsome, rather than Bad Boy handsome, but he was still attractive. She’d never really noticed that before.

 

“Do you often sneak in through the Men’s bathroom?”

 

Melinda shrugged. “I like a challenge. What’s the point in going through the front door?”

 

He laughed, giving her a wide smile as he did so. “I guess none. Can you wait just a couple of moments? I kind of want to put on pants before we talk some more.”

 

“Sure.”

 

Coulson ducked into one of the cubicles, the curtain pulled tight just before a hand grabbed a stack of clothing. Melinda waited by the row of sinks, her arms crossed as she waited for Coulson. “So I’ve been seeing a lot of you today.”

 

“Not too much, I made sure the towel was high enough.” Melinda giggled, a smile tugging at her lips that stayed even as Coulson came out of the shower in jeans and a polo shirt. He cleaned up well. “You’ve got a lovely laugh.”

 

She didn’t reply, but she felt her smile grow a little wider. Phil grinned at her before grabbing the rest of his things and gestured for the door. “Can I walk you to your room?”

 

“Sure.”

 

Out of the warm bathroom, Melinda started to feel a little cold. She kept close to Coulson as they walked up from the ground floor bathroom to the third floor corridor where her dorm room was.

 

“You were right, before. We have been seeing a lot of each other today. Don’t get me wrong, I like it. I like you.”

 

Melinda found herself realising that she felt the same. “I like you too, Coulson.”

 

“Good.” He gave her another smile as they walked up the ground floor stairwell. “I think the last time we talked before today was…what, when Hill put Garrett in the infirmary?”

 

They’d shared a few words since then, mostly greetings in the corridor, a ‘could you pass the nine millimetre cartridge’ type conversation. But their only real conversation had been a year and a half ago sitting outside the infirmary at two o’clock in the morning. “Sounds about right.”

 

Phil shoved his hands in his pockets, once more acting as if he was unsure what to do with the things at the end of his arms. As they headed up the second floor stairwell, he spoke again: “I liked sparring with you today. Maybe we could do it some other time?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Great.” He paused, his hands now crossing over his body. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

 

She ducked her head, turning away from Coulson. “Not really. I like the quiet.”

 

They continued their journey to her room, walking up the third floor stairwell. Phil seemed to respect her desire for silence as he didn’t pick up another string of conversation until they made it in front of her dorm room door. She found her key card in her back pocket and turned to say goodnight to Coulson.

 

“Thank you, for walking me back to my room.”

 

“Well, you never know who may be lurking in the corridors this late at night.”

 

She threw him a look. “I think I could take them.”

 

He nodded, agreeing with her. “Oh I know. I was protecting them from you.”

 

Melinda smacked him lightly on the shoulder, knocking him back on his heels. Funny guy. Maybe if they weren’t doing errands or liaising with local sheriffs, it wouldn’t be a complete hardship to work alongside Phil Coulson. There were worse people to work with after all.

 

“Goodnight, Agent May.”

 

“Night, Agent Coulson.”

 

Coulson smiled at her again before picking up his shoulders, trying to mitigate his next words. “You can me Phil, you know.”

 

“Then goodnight Phil.”

 

Turning around, Melinda slid the key card into her door lock, giving Coulson another sideways glance as he left her corridor. When she got inside, Harlow was waiting for her on her bed. As she shut the door, a pair of arms encircled her hips. Lips met her neck, fingers pressed against her skin.

 

This is what she wanted. Nothing else would work, not really. Not even Phil Coulson.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Agents of SHIELD or any of its characters, or settings - all belongs to Marvel and ABC.
> 
> Thank you to the lovely suallenparker for looking over sections of this chapter - you're amazing and I love your insight. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this new chapter!

Running had always helped Melinda May to think. It had helped as a child running to the park when she couldn’t decide between the swings or the slide. It had helped during high school when her mind had constantly tossed itself between SATs and college applications. It had helped when her grandmother had sat her down in their yellow kitchen and told Melinda about her father’s passing. That morning she had bolted from the door and kept on running until her mind was quiet and her body was still.

 

And now, with her mind caught up in the last days of her Academy training, Melinda needed to run more than anything.

 

Like most of her fellow cadets, her worries were fixated on her placing after graduation. Whilst most of them could worry obliviously, she could worry _specifically._ Her first attempts at proving that she and Coulson were not a professional match had been fruitless. He’d proved more than capable in Hand to Hand _and_ Weapons Management; as well as showing himself to be a gentleman too. Today, however, was another opportunity to prove the instructors wrong. She just needed a better strategy.

 

Running past the obstacle course and into the woods they used for stealth manoeuvres, Melinda cemented her plans. Take on Coulson early in the one on one challenges, knock him on his ass with ease. Outshoot him maybe. _If she could._ Her feet pounded the ground, a few stray branches snapping underneath her feet. Coulson was good, but they weren’t a match. He was better than expected, but they weren’t a match.

 

She ran past a figure clutching at a nearby tree for breath. Her feet halted, her body heaving as it tried to catch up from the pace she had put it through. Looking closer at the figure by the tree, she realised it was Coulson. His SHIELD sweatshirt clung to his torso, and his socks were dirty from the track he’d just completed. She thought about running onwards, his presence wouldn’t aid the troubles of her mind. But she didn’t.

 

Walking over, she waved a hand in front of his face to get his attention. He smiled when he noticed it was her, and he slid his headphones down around his neck. “Hi.”

 

“Hi.” They both paused to catch a breath. “You’re up early.”

 

Coulson grinned, using the back of his hand to wipe the sweat beading on his forehead. “Couldn’t sleep. Been having trouble lately.”

 

Ever since she’d read the placement list she’d been having the same trouble. She wondered what was keeping Coulson up at night. Probably what was stopping every other senior cadet from sleeping soundly. “I run, too, when I can’t sleep.”

 

He nodded, his hand flailing behind him. “I go past the Safe House, down towards the zip line. It’s a good run, especially this time of the morning. Not many people.”

 

“That’s what I thought.” She had expected a deserted forest, a clear track all the way around the obstacle course and the hanger. But it seemed everywhere she went these days she found Phil Coulson. “I should probably head on. Want to finish before breakfast.”  

 

Coulson wrinkled his nose, exhaling hard. “I’ll leave you to it. I can’t face another breakfast in the Mess. First thing I’m gonna do on leave is eat nothing but Cap’n Crunch. What I wouldn’t give for a Pop Tart.”

 

“You could ask Barton, he brings things in.”

 

That wrinkle was back. “I know he’s your friend, but the surplus he puts on his contraband is a little too pricey for me.”

 

She could reel off an entire list of reasons why Clint charged a high price for his bounty. But instead of defending her friend, Melinda came up with another idea entirely. “Come with me.”

 

There was every chance, even considering the early hour, that they would get caught. But when had she ever worried about that? So she did the riskiest thing she had done in months and grabbed Phil Coulson’s hand. It was clammy and cold within her own. But neither let go as they made their way out of the forest and back to the Academy.

 

\--

 

Covert operations were her speciality, and sneaking into the lecture halls before the breakfast whistle was a piece of pie compared to some of the stunts she’d pulled. Coulson, to his credit, kept up with her. He moved when she did, ducked and twisted like her shadow. He tried a few times to ask where they were going, but each time she slapped his hand over her mouth to keep him quiet. The last time she could see him barely containing a laugh behind her hand.

 

They eventually made it to the main lecture hall, where Melinda used the dummy key Clint had made her to enter the projectionist’s office. Finding the right panel, Melinda knocked three times. Hearing nothing back, she pushed it up and over.

 

“May, we’re not going to get in trouble are we?”

 

She hooked her fingers around the edge of the ceiling tile and hoisted herself up. “Did you want that Pop Tart or not?”

 

Smiling, Coulson followed her up. When the tile was back in place and the hurricane lamp was on, Melinda had the great pleasure in watching Coulson take in Clint’s secret stash of contraband. There were sodas in one corner, a couple of bottles of liquor in the false bottom of a box somewhere else. Phil ran his hand over several packets of chips, weighed up a few cans of cola in his hands. Clint had _everything_. There were even a few dirty magazines that Melinda saw Phil flicking through. She coughed, Coulson jerking away like he’d been stung.

 

“I like the articles.”

 

Melinda laughed, shaking her head as she reached over for the bag with the Pop Tarts. She took one pack for herself and tossed another to Coulson. He took it gratefully, ripping off one end with his teeth. She watched him take the first bite, marvelling at how blissful his features looked with a mouthful of chocolate pop tart.

 

“Thank you, May.” He smiled before taking another bite. “This is great.”

 

“You’re welcome. _But don’t tell Barton._ He’ll have my head.”

 

Coulson drew a cross over his heart before he continued to munch on breakfast. Certainly a step up from oatmeal and grapefruit. “I promise. I may have to extort more Pop Tarts from you though. God, I’d missed them. I had this whole plan to spend my first day of leave in the nearest supermarket. What about you? You got any plans?”

 

Melinda sucked in a breath, thinking back to the last phone call she’d shared with her mother. It had been long, her mother scheduling in everything from family visits to tea with friends. They both knew that the four weeks would go quickly and that afterwards it could be months before they saw each other again. All she wanted was time. Time alone, time with her. But time was a luxury a CIA Agent and a SHIELD cadet could not afford.

 

“Just spending time with my family before I head off into the world,” she replied, suddenly not feeling very hungry. “What about you, Coulson? Will you see your family between all the food shopping?”

 

 “No, no family. Just SHIELD.”

 

Looking up, Melinda watched Coulson stiffen. The light in his eyes had dimmed, the smile she was so used to seeing had vanished. Without thinking, Melinda reached across and grabbed his hand again, her thumb brushing the inside of his wrist. It was supposed to be comforting, something that her grandmother had done when she’d been overwhelmed with grief. She kept stroking the inside of his wrist until a flicker of that smile came back.

 

“God I’ve missed Pop Tarts,” Coulson choked, his free hand moving the packet back up to his mouth.

 

Melinda nodded solemnly, slipping her hand from his skin. “I think we may even have a Twinkie in here somewhere.”

 

Her comment encouraged the return of his smile. He had a lovely smile, the warmest she’d ever seen. “I love Twinkies. Garrett hates them. He’s a complicated guy, Garrett.”

 

“He’s an ass.”

 

“That too.” Phil put down the pouch of Pop Tarts he was eating.  “I always end up working with him in Hand to Hand but I think sometimes it’s important to try new things. Or…new people.” He paused, his eyes staring intently at the attic floor as he tried to spit out what was on his mind. “The other day, you said you wouldn’t mind sparring with me again and I…”

 

“Yes,” Melinda said, knowing his question and knowing her answer. It would be fun, seeing just what Coulson was made of. And, _of course_ , it would give her another chance to prove that they weren’t compatible in the field. “I would love to partner with you, Coulson.”

 

 “I thought I told you to call me Phil, May.”

 

“Fine. Then you can call me Melinda.”

 

It was a dumb move and she chastised herself for it immediately afterwards. She and Coulson weren’t friends. She barely knew the man. But as they sat cross legged on the dusty attic floor, eating contraband Pop Tarts and both of them avoiding talking about their families, Melinda realised that she wanted them to be. He was a good agent, a good man. Just because she didn’t want him as a partner didn’t mean she didn’t want him as a friend.

 

\--

 

Melinda had never had an attention problem. She was focussed, disciplined: as a good specialist should be. But that morning, after another pleasant run in with Phil Coulson, she couldn’t seem to shift him from her mind. It was even worse when, daydreaming out the window; she spotted Coulson doing training drills on the athletics field. She watched as he sprinted between cones, threw his arms up and down for jumping jacks and even went down on the dirt for push ups. Had he always had Athletics whilst she’d taken History of SHELD? Had she been completely oblivious to anyone outside her own circle, her own goals?

 

Her eyes were wide open now.

 

“Hey, we’re on page seventy five,” Maria hissed, jogging the textbook in front of her to get her to focus. “Not that Millar would even notice. I swear that guy is legally dead.”

 

Against her nature, Melinda’s attention didn’t return to Millar’s paltry attempts at speculating the future of SHIELD. She kept watching Coulson, marvelling at just how much the field agent surprised her. The few she knew were good agents, but didn’t have the stamina or the skill to keep up with the specialists. From her vantage point, Phil outstripped several of the cadets she trained with, only failing to beat Morton. The more she saw of him, the less Melinda felt her plan to upstage him would work.

 

Her mind was still in a state of flux as the whistle blew, and Melinda let herself be herded along the corridor by Maria. They entered the second floor bathroom but instead of following normal procedure Maria started banging on doors to clear the room. She even timed one of the freshmen washing her hands to make her leave quicker.

 

When they were alone, her friend addressed her with her arms crossed and a scowl that would scare even Harding. “Okay, what is _with_ you today? You weren’t at breakfast; your head was in the clouds during Millar’s class. I saw you yesterday evening for a run and you were _fine_. What happened since?”

 

Melinda shrugged, not really knowing how to put the complex knots of her thoughts into words. “Nothing. I had breakfast elsewhere; Millar’s class is just boring.”

 

“Agreed. But can we get back to breakfast? With who? _Harlow?_ Have you two progressed to overnights now?”

 

She snorted, turning around to look in one of the mirrors. She blew a couple of hairs out of her face. “Hardly. I had breakfast with Coulson. It was…nice.”

 

“ _Nice?_ ” Maria reached around her and slapped a hand on her forehead, testing her temperature. “No, you’re not sick so it’s got to be something else. What is it? Have you given up on you and Harlow working together?”

 

That was the goal. To be part of a strike team with Harlow, maybe even progress to a paired strike team. They were specialists, a deadly combination that together could stand up and enforce the responsibilities and legacy of SHIELD. They knew how the other worked, fought, thought. They knew each other intimately. She didn’t have a connection like that with anyone else. “That’s still the plan. Me and Harlow at the Hub.”

 

“You know my thoughts on Harlow.” They’d had many _long_ conversations about him that Melinda didn’t want to repeat in the second floor bathroom. “And while I was surprised that they assigned you with Coulson, maybe the instructors had a point.”

 

Melinda looked at her friend, her eyes narrowing as she tried to accept what she was saying. “Coulson’s not a specialist.”

 

“Yeah, I know that. But has your plan to upstage him worked? Because yesterday you had nothing. Today you’re hanging out having breakfast with him. Have you considered, even for a moment, that maybe the instructors got it right?”

 

“No, they haven’t. I like Phil, and he’s…well I guess we’re friends now. But there’s no chemistry. No play off each other. You need that when you’re partners with someone.” Melinda rubbed at her face. This was only adding to her confusion. “I don’t love Harlow. I’m not expecting to work with him forever either. But right now there is no one I work with better.”

 

Maria didn’t look convinced. In fact, her friend had the audacity to _smirk_ at her. “Out with it.”

 

“Nothing. I have nothing to say. Just…” _Here we go._ “I’ve seen you with Harlow and, yes, you are incredible together.  But you’re not amazing. Just…think on that.”

 

Maria swept out with a smile, leaving Melinda alone. She stared long and hard in the chipped bathroom mirror, trying to find some answer in her reflection. She’d joined SHIELD to be a specialist with the end goal of being part of a strike team. It was what she had trained for; it was what she was good at. She had to stick with what she knew, what she believed in. She knew what she wanted and this was it.

 

Was it?

 

\--

 

After a long and difficult study period, Melinda turned up at her afternoon Hand to Hand class determined to put this whole mess behind her. The list would be forgotten, the prospect of working with Phil Coulson would be shoved aside. She would partner with Harlow as she usually did, she would spar and duke it out with him as she usually did and Layton would once again be impressed by how well they operated together. _Like she usually was._ Things would go back to normal and her last two weeks of training wouldn’t be disturbed by a list that was probably a joke anyway.

 

Inside, Melinda dropped her gym bag with her towel and water bottle on one of the benches. Harlow hadn’t arrived yet, but Coulson had. He was on the other side of the training room talking to Blake, as bright and eager as ever. She really did like him. He was a good agent and what little time they spent together had been surprisingly pleasant. But it was easier to return to how things used to be.

 

Starring at Coulson long enough meant he noticed, and he soon ended his conversation to join her by the benches. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his shorts. He still had no clue what to do with them. “Hey. Still up for partnering today?”

 

She paused, trying to frame her response in the best way possible. “Phil, I think…”

 

Before she could finish her sentence, Garrett came storming over. The grease monkey looked like he had swallowed a bug, and Melinda could only guess what had upset the asshole now.

 

“What the hell, Phil?” Garrett asked; his face all screwed up. “I just talked to Blake. Since when are you and her partners?”

 

Beside her, Phil shrugged. “Since I asked her and she said yes.”

 

Such concepts seemed difficult for Garrett to understand, and the half man half cockroach screwed up his face even further. Finding no logic from Phil, he turned to her for answers. He leaned in close, and Melinda stepped forward. He could play intimidation with some of the freshmen, but not with her. “Wouldn’t you be happier with Nate, sweetheart? You two can practice what Phil here only _dreams_ about doing with you.”

 

For some reason, Melinda didn’t think that Garrett meant sparring. It seemed that Phil didn’t think so either. He stepped between them, his face right against Garrett’s. “That was uncalled for, John.” His tone was abrupt, his forehead creased. There was strength in his posture that Melinda hadn’t seen before. Still full of surprises. “You can partner with Blake.”

 

“But I don’t want to work with Blake.”

 

“Well I’m with Melinda.” Phil shifted back to stand by her. His face had softened; the smile returning as he looked at her. However she could see his eyes dim as doubt seeped in. He’d noticed her tone earlier. “Right?”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

Their sparring session would be worth it if only for the look on Garrett’s face as he slithered over to beg Blake to be partners with him. They both shared a smug smile as they watched Blake relent to his pressure. When Garrett threw them a dirty look, they decided to get on with training. They found a mat and began stretching. It wouldn’t hurt to have Phil as her partner for just _one_ class. She’d already made her decision about the list so it was really no problem if she spent a little more time with him.

 

Smiling to herself, Melinda straightened her back and reached her hands up to the ceiling, stretching out the muscles in her sides and lower back. She felt a pair of hands press against her hips, altering her position ever so slightly. Coulson’s hands were warm; she could feel the heat of his skin through the thin material of her t-shirt. She continued to stretch, acting as if it hadn’t affected her. As she watched her new partner sit down and stretch out his legs, she could still feel his touch on her hips.

 

It wasn’t a problem.

 

The rest of the class filtered in, Harlow included. There were a few whispers amongst their fellow cadets, all waiting to see what his reaction would be. To his credit he took a quick glance at her and Coulson before shifting trajectory to talk to Bishop. For that, Melinda was grateful. She hated being the centre of attention for something other than her work performance. Gossip about her and Harlow, or even her and Coulson, was not acceptable to her.  

 

After the class had finished stretching, Layton took the floor.  “Okay, everyone hustle up. I want to go over the move from Monday’s class as not everyone got it right. Those who did, work on feinting. That’s still an issue with some of you, even now.”

 

Standing up, Melinda prepared her body for a practice match. Coulson followed suit, getting his hands and feet in position. He made the first move, jabbing with his right. She ducked, as did he when her left hook aimed for his ear. She put her weight on her left foot, her right elbow back as if she was going for a strong hit to the face. Coulson didn’t expect the knee to his kidneys, so much so that he ended up dropping to one knee himself.

 

“Need a moment?”

 

Coulson shook his head as he got to his feet. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

 

Melinda took a few deep breaths, perfecting her stance, right before she and Phil continued to spar. She aimed a jab at his cheek, but he cleared it just in time. He swung into a wide kick aimed for her stomach but that, too, didn’t land right. Her eyes held his as they exchanged blows, watching for a muscle twitch or a jerk of the head that would indicate a move was coming. Phil kept up with her, ducking to avoid her blows, not quite landing his own. She’d never seen Phil fight this way before. He was quick and forceful and didn’t back down. She liked that in a sparring partner.

 

She spun and threw a high kick, just catching Coulson in the side of the head. He stumbled back, grinning, before storming forward. The next punch she threw he caught, before twisting and pulling her flush against his front. His arm pressed against her throat, his leg entangled with hers to prevent her from flipping him over. Melinda struggled briefly before they both took a moment to plan their next move. She could hear his heavy breathing in her ear, could feel his breath against the back of her neck. Her heart was drumming so loud she wondered if Coulson could hear it.

 

Melinda closed her eyes and let herself be swallowed by the sound of panting, the smell of sandalwood and sweat, and the warmth and pressure of Coulson’s body wrapped around hers.

 

She only gave herself a moment.

 

Then her right heel collided with his knee, knocking Coulson’s momentum. His grip on her throat loosened, allowing her the chance to twist away and aim a well-placed elbow in his back. Melinda glanced in his direction, saw him wince and drop down. His forearm was raised, attempting for a wide blow to her right. She dodged left. But she missed his other hand slice at her calves.

 

For the second time that week, Melinda May was knocked to the mats by Phil Coulson. With the round done, Melinda could take stock of both their states. She was sore in places she didn’t remember him hitting; her hair was stuck to her forehead and she could feel sweat gathering along her collarbone. She watched his fingers explore the delicate skin of his knee, wincing as they hit a tender spot. His t-shirt was soaked around the neck and arms, his forehead glistening. They both looked terrible. Yet they were both smiling.

 

“Nice move,” Phil said, rubbing his knee as he stood. “A little sloppy, but nice.”

 

He offered her his hand, and this time she took it. Melinda held his gaze; knowing that once they moved to towel down or hydrate the round would truly be over. She wanted to make this one last a little longer. “You’re better than I thought you were.”

 

“So are you.” Phil let out a shaky breath. “That was…”

 

He laughed, unable to finish his thought. Melinda couldn’t finish it for him. So she just patted him on the shoulder and went to towel down. She swallowed half her bottle easily, her body needing the fluid. She would need a decent shower to really feel clean and her muscles were aching already. She tried to think when she’d last had such a good sparring match. No memory came to mind.

 

Sitting on the benches, Melinda took in the rest of the class. Harlow was practicing with Bishop. He’d perfected the throw with a different partner. Avery and Penn were feinting, going through the motions rather than actually sparring like she and Coulson had. She couldn’t even remember what they’d done. She’d just become lost in the moment.

 

“Impressive work, May, as always,” Layton enthused as she walked by the benches. “But today was something else. Take a breather; it’s you and Blake in the first round.”

 

The rest of the class went by in a rush, a collusion of bodies and the repetitive sound of flesh hitting plastic mats. She didn’t remember her matches. Didn’t remember Harlow’s. She watched all of Coulson’s rounds in heightened Technicolor, her eyes darting and observing every move he made from a well-placed blow to the shoulder blades to a knee to the sides. He feinted with Garrett, getting in the right position to use his forearm to knock him to the floor. He made it to the third round but for all his talents, all his speed, Harlow was stronger and faster. Harlow was a specialist. There was no way a field agent could compete with that.

 

Once class was done, Melinda left alone; her body in need of a hot shower and her mind in need of a distraction. Harlow caught her a few paces from the exit, his hand straying further down her back than she cared for. He was soaked with sweat, his eyes gleaming as they usually did after Hand to Hand.

 

“That was some class. Listen, do you want to come by tonight? I figured you could sneak in my window one last time.”

 

Melinda nodded, rubbing the back of her neck. She couldn’t think about that right now. Her main focus was finding a hot shower and abusing it. “Sure.”

 

“ _Melinda_!”

 

She turned round, smiling as she watched Coulson jog down the corridor to catch up with them. The field agent gave a quick nod in Harlow’s direction, but immediately shifted focus to her. “Great class. Thanks for partnering with me.”

 

“It was my pleasure.” That wasn’t a lie. She’d enjoyed herself. She really did enjoy working with Coulson.

 

“Good. _Great_. Well, I’ll see you in Weapons Management tomorrow.”

 

Melinda bobbed her head, already looking forward to the class. “Absolutely. Save me a stall.”

 

Coulson gave her another smile before he disappeared into the crowd of cadets. Melinda intended to do the same, her need for a hot shower increasing by the second.  Harlow’s grip on her shoulder, however, halted any attempt at that. She wrenched herself away and turned back to stare at him. The haze of a good fight had dissipated, replaced by a clenched jaw and curled lips. “ _What?”_

“Last week you didn’t give a damn about Coulson. He wasn’t even on your radar. Now you’re partnering with him in Hand to Hand? And Weapons Management? What am I not seeing?”

 

Harlow was doing a marvellous impression of being jealous, but he didn’t have the right and she certainly didn’t have the patience. So she just shrugged. “I needed a challenge.”

 

“I’m not enough of a challenge?”

 

Ever since freshmen year, she and Harlow had dominated Hand to Hand, right down to always fighting the last round. They exchanged the winning honour seemingly alternately: Monday she had won and now Wednesday he claimed the top prize. They knew each other so well that everything had become routine. They were good. But they didn’t push the other to be great.

 

“No. You’re not.”

 

She turned her back on Harlow and went to shower alone. The pounding of the water was all she needed today. What she wanted would have to wait for another time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Agents of SHIELD or any of its characters, or settings - all belongs to Marvel and ABC.
> 
> I want to say a huge thank you to everyone who has liked, given kudos, commented on this story. You have all been so sweet and supportive. I couldn't ask for greater readers. I really hope you enjoy this new chapter!

Clint kept tapping his pencil against his desk, the only noise in the small classroom apart from the steady breathing of the other students who had come ridiculously early to class. Melinda had always laughed at the senior cadets in their last week of training, watched them move like zombies as they were assailed by the fear of retraining, the fear of assignments, the simple fear of the future. She had sworn, laughing with Clint and Maria, that she would never be like that. That when the time came and her graduation was just over a week away she would have everything together.

 

But she wasn’t any different from any other SHIELD graduate. Melinda wasn’t sure whether she was pleased by that fact, or distraught.

 

The tapping continued until Melinda wrenched the pencil out of Clint’s grasp and rammed it into the wood of his desk, missing his finger by a millimetre, two at best. “You’re lucky I have another pencil.”

 

“You’re lucky I didn’t jam it somewhere else.”

 

The library was busy; the track had at least two seniors jogging on it at any time. Clint had been working flat out trying to organise the high number of contraband requests. Today marked the first day of final assignments and everyone, from the specialists to the field agents, was freaking out.

 

“Breathe, Mel,” Clint hissed in her ear. “You’re not going to make it through today if you don’t breathe. Isn’t that why you do Tai Chi?”

 

“I couldn’t this morning. My mind is too tangled.”

 

Clint’s hand rested on the back of her neck, placing pressure to try and soothe her. It didn’t help. “Come on, this is why we stole the list, so we wouldn’t feel so stressed out. What happened to my girl with the badass plan, huh? You and Harlow, Strike Team Kappa?”

 

“Maybe.” Melinda paused, her mouth thinning. “I don’t know.”

 

As the whistle blew for the first lesson of the day, a few more cadets trailed in. Harlow was one of the first, with Morton by his side. He gave her a nod as he crossed the classroom to fill his usual seat by the window, but Melinda didn’t acknowledge him. After Hand to Hand, she’d considered their relationship over. It had been based on sex, a mutual partnership in training. She’d thought that that would be enough once she left the Academy. She’d been wrong.

 

“Mister Specialist keeps staring,” Clint hissed in her ear. “You gonna fill me in on that, Mel, or is that another thing you don’t know?”

 

Melinda was still trying to put the pieces together in her own mind. When she did, then she’d talk. For now she just sat back in her seat, her number two pencil drawing tiny circles on the paper in front of her. The rest of the class finally entered, looking as distracted as her. Even Phil Coulson, who out of all of them had _nothing_ to worry about, looked tired and fed up. Pulling a notepad from his bag, he felt her eyes on him. He looked up and gave a tiny little wave. She returned it.

 

“Oh for-you _got_ to fill me in on that!” Clint hissed, smacking her on the arm

 

Before she could say anything, Agent Willet swung into the lecture room. Suddenly every conversation halted, the senior cadets lips slamming shut. Willet was an Academy legend, with deep grooves in his face and upper arms and enough horror stories of undercover tales to keep the freshmen awake till dawn. Most of the cadets who hated Misrepresentation Studies chalked it up to Willet’s approach. Strangely, he was the one aspect of the class Melinda didn’t mind.  

 

“Good morning, Agents. One week, and you’ll be getting your shiny silver badges and those small white envelopes that tell you your future. Just one week.” Willet smiled, the sinister expression intensifying with the lengthy scar leading away from his mouth. “But first, you have your final assignment in this class.”

 

Willet stood, spine straight, staring down his cadets. His eyes bored into every one of them. “This won’t be easy. You will have thirty minutes after I dismiss you to leave this room, prepare your cover and rendezvous at the hanger. From there you will be taken to one of three locations where you will operate a standard background cover for one hour under the watchful eye of three level four field agents who must not, under any circumstances, realise you are one of them.”

 

Melinda had expected something like this, although she had hoped for an extraction cover. She excelled when tactics and critical thinking was involved. Pretending to be someone else simply for pretending had never appealed to her.

 

“And did I mention the assignment would be in pairs?”

 

She wasn’t the only student to clench their desk. Working in pairs during a combat strike or backup was fine. Relying on someone else to maintain and provide follow through on a cover was not. Her luck in group assignments was non-existent. Specialists came in two groups when it came to undercover: those who could provide it seamlessly and those that thought they were above it. Harlow, who she had been paired with a number of times, definitely fell in the latter. Six minutes of cover was his limit. He’d never been able to stomach anything longer.

 

Melinda honestly wondered how she hadn’t seen the failings in their partnership before.

 

“Mel,” Clint whispered out the side of his mouth, trying not to draw Willet’s attention. “Would you be my assignment wife?”

 

“My mother will be so happy.”

 

Clint visibly paled at the mention of her mother, who had only come once to visit her at the Academy. She’d adored Maria, and sent her a similar care package to Melinda’s every month. Melinda wasn’t entirely sure what had happened with her mother and Clint, but she’d never seen him look so terrified. “Changed my mind. I’ll go with Harlow.”

 

She stifled a laugh, just as Willet looked in her direction. She calmed her features immediately, drawing on all their freshman classes on controlling emotion. It was difficult when Clint was poking her in the side, trying to get her to break.

 

“I can see you all are _thrilled._ This will be an assignment requiring chemistry and trust, so pick your partners carefully. As usual, those who achieve the highest grades get to pick first. In the case of your latest assignment, for the seventh week running, that would be Agent Coulson.” His smile of pride was not any less disturbing.  “Congratulations, Coulson. Take your pick. Who do you want as your partner?”

 

Garrett grinned cockily, his toothpick smacking between his lips. Farrow and Smith, who had partnered with Coulson before, also looked confident. Phil turned in his seat, peering round the class before his eyes finally settled on hers. He gave her one of his warm smiles, the one that made his eyes light up. “I want Melinda…uh, Agent May,” he corrected as he turned back in his seat. “I choose Agent May.”

 

Melinda gripped her knees, trying to breathe as she felt every eye swivel to the back of the class. Willet hid his surprise well. But like everyone, he’d expected Coulson to pick someone more adept at this discipline. “Is that acceptable to you, Agent May?”

 

Clint crossed her mind; she didn’t want to let him down. As she tried to formulate a response, the annoying tapping from before returned. She turned to him, about to shove that pencil somewhere painful, when she noticed he’d written a little note.

 

TRISKELION PRACTICE

 

He had a good point. Harlow was no longer an option. Coulson had more than proved himself capable, _especially_ during their last Hand to Hand. If she worked with Coulson now, she would at least get an idea of what she was getting in to at the Triskelion. “I’m in.”

 

Phil spun in his seat again, his hands clenching the back of his chair as he grinned at her. Melinda couldn’t help but smile back, ducking her head when their eye contact went on a little long. Willet cleared his throat and brought the class back to attention.

 

“ _Wonderful_. Now that’s decided, you get to pick your location.” Willet’s eyes shifted to the back. “Door number one, two or three, May. Pick wisely, you’ve got Coulson’s grade in your hands.”

 

“Two.”

 

Willet nodded. “The bus station. Good.”

 

As he moved onto the second highest achiever in the class, Melinda started thinking on potential covers. This would have to be done right, and have to be done well. She didn’t want to fail, and she didn’t want Coulson to regret his choice either.

 

\--

 

Melinda was used to time frames. Time keeping and organisation was an essential part of specialist training. A thirty minute window to establish a cover and dress the part was not impossible. Ten minutes at Coulson’s dorm room changing, ten minutes at her own. Another ten to make their way to the hanger. They didn’t have time for distractions. Although Melinda gave herself thirty seconds to admire Coulson’s dorm room.

 

It was laid out like all the other dorm rooms Melinda had been in, but there was something different about this one. There was the crisply made bed, neat bookcases, clothes in the hamper instead of laid out all over the floor. His clean clothes were hanging pressed in the closet. Most of the specialist rooms, Harlow’s included, were sparse. Phil had posters on his wall, a few comic books on his desk. He’d tried to cover them up when they entered, but Melinda had seen the titles. Coulson was a Captain America fan. She found that kind of cute.

 

“I’ve got some jeans a shirt that’ll work for the bus station,” Phil said, balling his hands under his armpits. “Do you want to wait outside, or…”

 

“I’m good here. Don’t worry; I’ll keep my eyes to myself.”

 

Melinda made a grand show of turning her head, focussing on the shelves beside Coulson’s bed while he changed. There were a few Captain America figurines on the shelf, some model cars too. A small tin box rested on another, an old baseball on the bottom. Coulson was a collector. _Interesting_. Closer to his bed there were some thumbed through spy novels and a small shaving mirror that she adjusted in line with the books.

 

Suddenly she was faced with the reflection of a half-naked Phil Coulson. She’d seen him in shorts and a t-shirt; _hell_ she’d seen him in a towel dripping wet. But she’d never really taken the moment to truly appreciate his form. His legs were long, firm, ending in red and white striped boxer shorts. _Very patriotic._ She admired his ass in the jeans he stepped into, and the muscles of his back as he slipped on a deep blue shirt. Melinda already had great appreciation for his arms. She was finding she had a great appreciation for the rest of Phil too.

 

“So, what’s the cover?” Phil asked, his fingers nimbly doing the buttons of the blue shirt. “I was thinking maybe University students out on a trip somewhere? Museum, maybe?”

 

That would certainly appeal to Coulson, history lover that he was. But Melinda wasn’t sure she could produce that cover well. She threw out one of her earlier thoughts. “We could be a couple.”

 

In the mirror, Melinda watched his hands stall on the fourth button down. His chest heaved in and out before he proceeded with the buttons. “A couple?”

 

“Public affection makes people uncomfortable. They’d leave us alone; allow us to perform our cover successfully.”

 

Phil finished doing up the shirt before tucking the tails into the waistband of his jeans. He looked good. Attractive. “You’re right. So that would involve things like…”

 

“…hand holding,” She interjected, hoping that Coulson was better at it than Harlow. His hand had always been too stiff.

 

“...earlobe nibbling…”

 

Melinda paused, her fingers surreptitiously brushing the length of her ear. With him dressed, Melinda turned around, her hand immediately thrown to her side. “And kissing. Stuff like that. Think we can do it?”

 

Phil paused, his shoulders shifting up. “I don’t know. I’m not sure we could pull off playing a couple.”

 

She tried not to take that personally. Maybe he didn’t relish the idea of kissing her, or maybe he didn’t think he was capable of manufacturing an attraction to her. Playing the couple charade convincingly was hard. Harlow had never been comfortable doing anything so generically romantic. The one time she and Clint had done so he couldn’t stop laughing. He’d stopped when she’d shoved a carrot up his nose. “We can try the student approach. I understand if you don’t find me…”

 

“…attractive?” Phil said, finishing her sentence. “Melinda, you’re…” He let out a shaky breath, not finishing his own. But his eyes had taken a long look down her body. “But come on, do you really think that the guy I’m pretending to be could get a girl like you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Coulson was smart, with a good sense of humour and as she’d determined _extensively_ in the last few minutes he was very handsome. The whole package made him incredibly attractive. Any woman would be lucky to call him hers. But Melinda didn’t say any of that. She hoped smiling at him would make him get the message.

 

“We’ll do it.” He grinned. “I’ll grab a couple of things and then we’ll head to your room so we can get undressed.” Phil swallowed as he realised what he’d said. “I mean you can get undressed…or just changed. _Changed is a better word_. Could you pass me one of those books for luggage? Thanks.”

 

Maybe manufacturing an attraction wouldn’t be a difficult feat after all.

 

\--

 

This time, when Phil walked her to her dorm room, she actually invited him inside.

 

With nineteen minutes until they were due to leave, Melinda didn’t have time to focus on the state of her room. Her bed was just as neat as Coulson’s, although there were clothes and underwear in a ball on the floor. She did manage to kick a thong under the bed before Coulson sat down. They didn’t have time for _that_ awkward conversation.

 

“So what’s the play here?” Coulson asked. “How long have we been dating? I was thinking around six, seven months? We know each other, but it’s still a little new.”

 

Melinda bobbed her head as she opened her closet, trying to find an appropriate outfit to go along with Coulson’s Respectable Young Man. Respectable Young Woman had never been her wheelhouse, although her mother had insisted on buying her plenty of pretty dresses for when they went out together. If Melinda ever survived this week then she would be dressed up like a doll drinking tea for the next four.

 

“You’re coming home to meet my mother,” she said, her mind latching onto the reason for their persona’s trip. “We met at college and now I’m ready for you to meet my mom.”

 

She looked over her shoulder to see Coulson nodding eagerly. “I’ve never met a girlfriend’s mother before, but I can imagine it’s pretty nerve wracking. Especially your mother. I’ve heard the stories about what she did to Agent Barton.”

 

Melinda snorted. “Just rumours.”

 

She crowed in delight as she found the dress she usually wore to her mother’s screwed up at the bottom of her trunk. Without thinking about the young man sitting on her bed, Melinda started to strip. She heard Coulson’s sharp intake of breath, and she was sure she could feel his eyes roam over her back as she tugged down the pants she’d worn to class. _Definitely an attraction._ Melinda slipped the cream dress over her head. It was knee length, with thick straps holding it up. There were, however, more wrinkles in it than on Agent Flynn.

 

“Shit. I can’t wear this.”

 

Melinda felt Coulson’s hands run up and down her arms. She hadn’t heard him get up off the bed. But he was warm against her back, comforting even. “You can. Just keep smoothing out the wrinkles. It’ll only add to the cover.” One of his hands left her arm and touched her lightly just between the shoulder blades. “Can I do you up, _dear_?”

 

“Of course, _pumpkin._ ”

 

Phil chuckled behind her, and Melinda felt the material bunch behind her back as he tugged up the zipper. His fingers were light on her skin as he touched her once more. “I don’t think you can pull that off.”

 

She looked back at Coulson, her partner standing close enough to kiss. They should probably practice forms of affection before they went out into the field, establish boundaries as to what they were comfortable with. An awkward kiss could ruin a perfectly good cover.

 

Melinda reached up and tangled her arms around Coulson’s neck. His hands spanned her waist, bringing her closer. “So, how do we look?”

 

“Like boyfriend and girlfriend.”

 

She smiled. “Perfect.”

 

The door banged open before either of them could test their boundaries. Maria Hill was covered in dirt and sweat and whatever she was going to say stopped in her throat as she took in the sight of Melinda wearing a dress and Coulson with his arms wrapped around her. It took her friend a few seconds to recover before she actually said anything.

 

“What the hell did I miss?”

 

With the moment broken and time running out, Melinda patted Coulson on the chest and gave him a sheepish smile. “Give me sixty seconds?”

 

“I’ll time you.”

 

Phil left the dorm room, smiling at Maria as he passed. When the door clicked shut, Maria ran over and grabbed her arms. “Okay so I run into Clint getting ready for an undercover stint at a gym and he tells me you and Coulson are partners in Misrepresentation.”

 

“We are, Maria. We’ve partnered before, I don’t see your problem.”

 

Maria waved her hand towards her closet where she had just stood with Coulson. “ _Really_? Two days ago you told me that you and Coulson had no chemistry. _Nadda._ But now I see you two looking at each other in a way that, typically, partners don’t tend to do. Hell, you didn’t even look at Harlow that way and you two were screwing more often than Bugs Bunny.” Melinda squinted, trying to see the connection. Maria just sighed. “Rabbits! Come on, _rabbits_!”

 

Sighing herself, Melinda pushed past her friend to shove a few clothes in a duffel bag. “I don’t have time for you to explain the reproductive habits of rabbits; I have a time frame and the clock is ticking down.”

 

“Fine, we’ll talk about this later over a very large bottle of Clint’s contraband wine. But for now can I just ask you one thing?”

 

The last time Maria had left her with a lingering thought the rose tinted glasses fell to the floor and suddenly everything became a tangle. Melinda wasn’t sure whether she would appreciate this new intrusion into her life or whether it would only confuse her already tense mind. “ _What_?”

 

“Is he a good kisser?”

 

Melinda slammed the door on her way out.

\--

 

A rusty cab, waiting in the academy hanger, drove them to the bus station. It was a tense drive, both of them trying to relax before they got to their destination. They looked the part: Phil with his neat shirt and nicely polished shoes and her with her wrinkled dress and faux expensive high heels. All that was left now was to act like they were a couple. Act like they were in love. She’d never been able to produce that with Harlow and they’d been sleeping together. They’d had chemistry, sexual energy. She wasn’t sure what she had with Coulson.  

 

As they passed the ten minute mark, Phil reached across the cab and held her hand. She’d expected it to be clammy, damp like hers was. But he was neither clammy nor damp. Just warm and comforting. He squeezed her hand, his thumb rubbing along her wrist like she had done during their breakfast together. She found it as comforting now as she had done with her grandmother. He was a nice guy, and Melinda had no doubt that he could play Respectable Young Man to a tee. Melinda hoped she didn’t screw this up for them both.

 

Exhaling, Melinda leant across and rested her head on his shoulder. “Why did you choose me, Phil? Top of the class, you could have had anyone.”

 

“Yeah, but I only wanted you.”

 

“ _Yeah,_ but why?” Their fight in Hand to Hand played in her mind, the speed and rhythm to which they sparred had been _incredible_. But that was something she was good at. For their final assessment he could have partnered with Garrett, who was surprisingly adept at undercover. Or Morton, whose charm was infectious. Willoughby had fought Coulson long and hard for top of the class. “You could risk your grade being here with me.”

 

Phil shook his head, his thumb still stroking her wrist.  “No, I don’t think so. You’re a pretty safe bet.”

 

Melinda tried not to focus on how good that whisper of contact felt, or how nice it was to rest her head on such solid shoulders. She was getting into the Girlfriend role a little too early. “You won’t be saying that if I screw up.”

 

“You won’t. I trust you.”

 

And then they were there. The assignment started as soon as they stepped out of the cab, and Phil set the timer on his wristwatch as soon as he opened the door. She was just about to follow suit when the door opened, Phil holding out his hand for her to take. Melinda grinned as he began playing the role of the attentive boyfriend, even grabbing the bags out of the boot and carrying both. Melinda reached for his free hand again, now finding it a little sweaty.

 

“We’ll be fine,” Melinda whispered, as much to herself as to Phil.

 

They crossed the street to the dingy bus station, consisting of a tired waiting room and a small coffee shop. The boards above them flickered with departure information, several of the tiles missing. Melinda looked up, as did everyone else who entered the station. There was a bus that was supposed to leave in twenty minutes but had been delayed another ten. With no tickets and no real funds to pay for any, it looked like their bus had been delayed.

 

“Great,” Phil huffed, finding an empty section of plastic seats and collapsing against one. Melinda joined him, her hand reaching across to rub at the imaginary tension in his neck. “Thanks honey.”

 

He pulled it off a little better than _pumpkin_. Attentive Girlfriend Cover was a go. Melinda pushed a little closer to him, her fingers pressing into his nape. His skin was so warm, so tender. His eyes closed as she seemingly hit a sensitive spot just around the back of his neck. ““It’ll be fine. You just need to relax or you’re going to be a ball of nerves for the entire weekend.”

 

Phil nodded, first over exaggerating his breathing and then trying to steady it. “I know. I just…I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be this way.”

 

Melinda leant across and pressed a kiss to his cheek, just beside his ear. Maria had interrupted their discussion about boundaries, but she thought this would be okay. It seemed something a Girlfriend would do. Phil relaxed at her touch, even turning to look at her as she pressed another kiss to his cheek. Being so close, Melinda could really appreciate the colour of Phil’s eyes. Blue, with flecks of green and gold in certain lights. So beautiful, so disarming.  He was going to make a great field agent.

 

“I love you,” Phil said, his voice thick with emotion.

 

“I love you too.” It was the first time she’d said those words to someone who wasn’t family. She’d always wanted those words to mean something, to have genuine resonance when she said them. In her line of work, words didn’t really mean much at all. Something she would have to get used to.

 

Phil’s hand sunk into her hair, bringing her closer. Of course their covers would kiss now. She bit the inside of her mouth as she closed the gap between them. His lips looked soft, inviting as they parted in front of her. She wondered what kind of kisser Phil Coulson was. Maybe, after all this was over, she could finally answer Maria’s question. Was he sloppy, too liberal with his tongue? Or was he controlled with moments of passion like when they sparred together? She hoped for the latter. She really wanted him to be a good kisser.

 

“Ahem.”

 

A tiny cough from across the aisle ruined the mood. Melinda focussed away from Phil and onto the old woman sitting across from them. Her mouth was curled into a wrinkly oval, her eyes narrowing and the fingers clutching her flower patterned bag tightening.  A kiss shouldn’t have merited all that, but Melinda realised quickly that she’d practically crawled into Phil’s lap. Her cheeks turned pink as she retreated back to her own seat and placed her hands firmly on her knees.

 

“Sorry,” she offered, biting her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing. Beside her, Phil was equally useless, both hands clamped over his mouth. The old woman scowled even harder. “I think I’ll go get us some coffee.”

 

Still resisting the urge to giggle, Melinda went over to the small coffee shop in the corner of the station. It was the kind of place that did magazines and sandwiches, although none of them looked particularly edible. Her hands skimmed the magazine rack, focussing on the women’s section. Her fingers stopped at a bridal magazine and, with an overt glance to make sure Phil wasn’t watching, even picked it up from the shelf to flick through. A few pages in, she found a dress that would suit her down to the ground, a strapless dress with very little trail. Shame she had no interest in getting married.

 

“Is he close to popping the question?” the cashier asked; body slumped over the counter. She was a little younger than Melinda herself, but age could be deceptive. No telling who was a SHIELD agent and who wasn’t. Their cover was still essential. 

 

Melinda closed the magazine and put it subtly back on the shelf before turning to the cashier. “We’re going home to meet my mother. I caught him looking at a jewellery store window last week, thought it was about time.”

 

“He’s real cute.” Melinda turned and gave Coulson a once over. Sitting on a tacky orange seat, wearing a deep blue shirt and fiddling with headphones, he looked… _gorgeous._ Boy Scout Handsome didn’t really do him justice. “How did you two meet?”

 

“College. We had a couple of the same classes and one day we partnered up on an assignment. Since then we’ve been together.” Melinda nibbled on her bottom lip as she threw another glance in his direction. He was tapping out a rhythm on his knees when he realised she was looking at him. He gave a flirty wave in her direction. “It must sound so dopey, but he’s my soul mate.”

 

Eavesdropping on teenage girls at high school had finally come in handy. The cashier nodded, following her gaze to where Coulson was now trying to act like they weren’t staring at him. And failing. “God, you’re so lucky.”

 

“I am. I really am.”

 

Melinda ordered two coffees when the cashier had finished eyeing up her boyfriend. There was a lot to eye up, certainly. But the girl didn’t know the half of it. She didn’t know how funny he could be, how much strength was hidden under that blue shirt. As she sauntered back to her seat, Phil watched her make every step. He looked at her with sheer bliss, like she was everything to him. The girl that ended up with Phil Coulson was going to be one lucky woman.

 

“Here,” Melinda said, passing him one of the cups.

 

“Great, caffeine! Just what I need,” Phil said, immediately gulping half the takeaway cup. He immediately stuck his tongue out, gasping as he realised just how hot the coffee was.

 

Melinda shook her head as she retook the seat beside him. “You are such a dork.”

 

“But you love me anyway, right?” She didn’t say anything, and he nudged her ribs, trying to encourage a response. “Melinda, tell me you love me anyway!”

 

Giggling, she reached across and cupped his jaw. She even brushed her thumb against his lip. They were as soft as they looked. “Of course. You’re _my_ dork.”

 

The old lady was at the ticket booth, arguing about departure delays. So Phil took the opportunity to press a kiss to her cheek, then another one to the edge of her jaw. Melinda beamed as Phil continued to leave kisses along her skin. His lips were soft, light as they danced down the curve of her neck. Harlow had never objected to kissing her, but it had always been heavy, forceful kisses intended to arouse. These just produced a few simple butterflies.

 

That was, until Phil’s lips met the spot behind her ear. She tensed instantly, a pleasurable sensation sliding down her body and settling in her stomach. Coulson pulled back immediately, keeping his hand on her cheek to hold the cover. They should have covered this earlier but there wasn’t time. His mouth formed ‘ticklish?’ and Melinda felt her cheeks warm underneath Phil’s fingers. Fingers that soon followed the same path his mouth had done, rubbing at the same spot to get the same reaction. Melinda didn’t know if he was aware of the effect he was having on her, but she was loathed to ask him to stop.

 

“Damn kids. Everything’s a darn sex show these days.”

 

Obviously the old woman had finished arguing with the ticket clerk. As she planted herself in the orange seat directly across from them, Melinda couldn’t hold back the laughter anymore. She buried her head against Phil’s shoulder, hoping to muffle the sound. His fingers moved from her neck to around her shoulders, holding her against him. She felt his lips drop a kiss to the top of her head, heard a muffled apology aimed at the woman’s direction. But she could feel him trying to hold back laughter as well.

 

She’d worked with Clint, Harlow, even Bishop under cover before. She’d never felt this comfortable, never had this much fun. The old woman kept frowning at them, even tutting at them. But Melinda didn’t care. For an hour, for a brief moment she was just a college kid in love with the most amazing guy and no one was any the wiser.

 

Willet had said that chemistry and trust would be required to pass. She trusted Coulson. As they held each other on those tacky plastic seats, it was obvious they had chemistry. If her future lied at the Triskelion with Phil, Melinda decided they would make one hell of a team.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Agents of SHIELD or any of its characters, or settings - all belongs to Marvel and ABC.
> 
> So it's been a while since I updated this story. This chapter is a pivotal one and the version that I'm posting here is my fourth attempt at creating something that I hope you find enjoyable and satisfying. If not, well, I have enough alternate versions to Frankenstein up a new one ; ) I must give a massive thank you to suallenparker for putting up with me about this story, as well as being inspiring and helpful as she always is. Could not imagine a more perfect writing partner. Also a thank you to everyone who's been cheering me on to get this done. You all rock. 
> 
> So, anyway, I hope this is at least readable. Enjoy.

Saturday was supposed to be a day of rest. But at four am Melinda May was unceremoniously woken by a rapping at her door. What followed Melinda barely recalled, but the envelope the administration agent pressed into her hand stayed with her. It took her a few seconds longer than she would have preferred for the contents to sink in. Afterwards, the thought of sleep was impossible. 

 

By five o’clock her room was spotless: all her dirty laundry had been cleaned and pressed; her books straightened to within a millimetre of each other. As the hands of her clock ticked around another hour she went through the movements of Tai Chi and showered quickly. Whilst the rest of her fellow cadets began to stir in their dorm rooms, Melinda was already dressed in her nicest civilian clothes and heading for the courtyard.

 

Across the cobbles, in the centre of the Operations campus, was a bench overshadowed by a crab apple tree. There was only a handful of people around this early, the changeover between late night studiers and early risers having already occurred. A few agents hovered around, trying to blend in; acting as if they weren’t protecting an extremely valuable asset. They were failing.

 

“How many?”

 

Melinda grinned as she sat down on the wooden bench. “Four. But your man on the east is flirting with a freshman.”

 

Director Peggy Carter followed Melinda’s gaze where they watched said agent unsuccessfully flirt with the young cadet. Director Carter sighed, rolling her eyes at what passed for her security detail. Melinda knew first-hand that the Director didn’t need any protection, especially not from four agents who looked like their last fight had been on the playground. But others felt differently.

 

“The perils of being a female director, I’m afraid. They think I’m a mouthpiece, a figurehead playing nice with other agencies. They forget I fought with greater men than them on the front lines.” Director Carter wetted her lips before turning to Melinda with a smile, the bitterness forgotten. “It’s wonderful to see you, Melinda. I can’t believe it’s been nine months. Time goes so quickly. My sister gave birth to a baby girl last month. Already Sharon looks so different.”

 

Melinda didn’t feel very different from the last time she’d seen Peggy Carter. Her hair was a little longer than before, no fake blood from her Halloween prank clinging to the strands. Other than that she didn’t feel different. Nervous, perhaps. In a little under a week she would be twenty feet away sitting in a rusty folding chair graduating from the Academy. It had seemed so far away nine months ago.

 

“It’s good to see you too, Director.”  

 

Peggy nudged her shoulder. “I wish I could have been by more, I’ll always be sorry for that. I check in with Harding every now and again, see how you’re getting on. See what latest _prank_ you pulled.” Melinda coughed, trying to act embarrassed. Peggy’s grin was not one of disappointment, but of pride. “I hear good things, _great_ things. One week more and you’ll be carrying a badge.”

 

Melinda swallowed, her eyes twisting over to the phantom version of herself waiting impatiently for them to call her name. “One week left to go. Just got to make it through my exams.”

 

“Which you will, I have faith. You had your Misrepresentation exam yesterday, didn’t you? Don’t keep me in suspense; I want to hear how brilliantly it went.”

 

Melinda let out a breath, trying to put into words just _how_ the exam had gone yesterday. She’d tried to think of anything else after her and Coulson had got back from town. But she supposed she’d have to think on it eventually. “I worked with someone new, Phil Coulson.”

 

“One of Fury’s boys. I’ve been hearing a lot of chatter about him.”

 

Melinda beamed. “He’s good, _great_ even. The whole hour went by so quickly, it was effortless to bounce off him. We sparred earlier in the week and it was just the same. So easy, so… _fluid._ ” 

 

She’d never felt anything similar to what she felt when she worked with Phil. There was an easiness with him, a chemistry that just lent itself to their working ability. He’d surprised her with his dedication, his precision. Melinda had often considered herself similar to Harlow. She wondered if she had more in common with Phil than she’d thought.

 

“Well then I’m sure your results will be incredible. I expect nothing less.” One of the Director’s detail threw a look over his shoulder, no doubt trying to highlight the trickle of cadets coming onto the grounds. Peggy rolled her eyes and turned back to Melinda. “So, the last time we talked you weren’t sure what field you wanted to get into. Does this new partnership perhaps signal that I’ll be seeing your name on undercover rosters?” 

 

Melinda snorted. Pretending to be someone else on a regular basis was the last thing she wanted, even if it was with Coulson. “We’ll see. Layton’s brought up me joining a strike team on several occasions. My Hand to Hand skills impress her.”

 

“Well you know I’ve always thought so. But there’s a difference between a strike team and a tactical team. Don’t let them sway you into something you don’t want. I know after your father…”

 

“…I know. I won’t.”

 

Peggy reached across and squeezed her shoulder. Words could never express how much the woman beside her had changed her life. Peggy had given her direction when she’d had none, had inspired her not to settle for an education she didn’t want. If their paths hadn’t crossed Melinda would no doubt be stuck in a classroom at Yale or Princeton, bored out of her mind. Melinda only hoped she would make Director Carter proud.

 

“It looks like my detail are getting concerned. I lose them, every now and again. Grab a coffee, visit a museum. I know you don’t have to be told this, but try and avoid politics. It’s too tempting to shoot congressmen.” Peggy stood up and Melinda followed suit, her back straight as she faced her mentor. “I won’t be able to come next week, but I know you’ll be incredible.”

 

Melinda joined Peggy in walking across the cobblestones, trying not to feel too disappointed that her SO wouldn’t attend her graduation. A part of her had always known she wouldn’t be able to come but she had still hoped.  As one of her detail took a moment with the Director, Melinda’s eyes focussed on the spot where her graduation would take place. One week, six exams and a three hour graduation ceremony was all that stood between her and that badge.

 

So engrossed in watching her phantom self, Melinda didn’t see the figure approach until he was right beside her. She hadn’t seen Phil Coulson since the debrief the day before but he looked good. Better than good. Civilian clothes suited him. “Morning, Phil.”

 

“Morning, Melinda. I’m glad I ran into you, I wanted to know if you…”

 

Phil’s words trailed off as Peggy finished her conversation and re-joined Melinda’s side. Her new partner seemed lost for words, his jaw gaping like a starved fish as he tried to reconcile the sight of Director Peggy Carter standing in front of him. His lips fumbled a few more times before he turned to Melinda, his eyes begging her for help.

 

“Director, this is Phil Coulson, my partner from yesterday. Phil, this is Director Carter.

 

They both waited for Coulson to say something, to offer his hand or do _anything._ When that didn’t happen, Peggy turned to Melinda, her hands clasping her shoulders. “Take care, Melinda. Knock them _dead._ ” With a quick wink, she turned to Coulson who was still trying to regain use of his tongue and teeth. “It was delightful to meet you, Mister Coulson. If you could, would you please keep an eye on Melinda for me. She does have a knack for getting into trouble.”

 

Phil nodded eagerly. “Yes-yes ma’am.”

 

“Wonderful. Love the t-shirt, by the way.”

 

Melinda waved Peggy off as the Director walked towards her car, her detail following a few seconds too slow behind her. She was grateful that she’d swung by, Melinda hadn’t realised she’d needed her reassurance and support until she had it. Beside her, her new partner still seemed to be in a state of shock. His eyes kept darting between the departing figure of the Director and the Captain America t-shirt he wore.

 

 _Whatever_ was she going to do with him?

 

\--

 

“So, your SO is the Director,” Phil started, his teeth fumbling over his words as if he couldn’t quite believe them himself. “Director Carter is your SO. _Wow._ ”

 

Melinda rolled her eyes as she sat cross legged across from him, watching as he tried to take in her early morning meeting. After Peggy’s departure she had dragged Phil from the courtyard up to Clint’s bolt hole, wanting somewhere private to have this discussion. It was difficult when one of them was still in shock. “Are you going to be okay, Phil?”

 

Her partner raised his eyes from where they’d been fixed on the Captain America logo printed on his t-shirt. Of all the t-shirts he could have worn that morning... “I think so. Just… _wow._ I’m surprised I didn’t know this already: it’s not every day one of your peers has the Director as an SO.”

 

“Compartmentalization of knowledge, Phil. To keep a secret this big, no one knows. Not even Clint or Maria.” Melinda slid across the floorboard and reached for the hands balling his t-shirt. She pushed past the little jolt she felt in her stomach as her fingertips brushed his skin. “I know it’s only a week until graduation, but could we keep this between us? I’d rather not have everyone know.”

 

Phil bobbed his head eagerly; his hands squeezing hers. “Absolutely. Believe me, I can keep a secret. No one knows about my obsession with Captain America.”  Melinda threw him a look, and he grinned cheekily back at her. “That was a joke. At least it was supposed to be.”

 

Melinda laughed, shaking her head at the dork she’d been stuck with. But she wouldn’t change him, not now. It was refreshing to be around someone who didn’t take things too seriously. Some of the specialists she’d been involved with – Harlow included – had never really appreciated her pranks. Clint, thankfully, was an exception.

 

“I appreciate that.” Melinda touched the back of her neck as she thought about her next question. She didn’t know why she felt so nervous. “Clint’s trying to clear out all this food before graduation. Want to help me find the Pop Tarts?”

 

“Like you even have to ask.” 

 

Together they helped each other off the floor before they began their search for breakfast. Clint had no organisational system in the loft; Melinda didn’t even know _how_ he’d made it through the four years at the Academy. Behind her, she could hear Phil rootling in boxes and drawers. At this rate they’d have to go to the Mess for breakfast and that was the last thing Melinda wanted. She was enjoying this time with just her and Phil. It was good bonding for after they’d graduated.

 

 “It’s a shame we didn’t get to talk after yesterday’s exam,” Phil said from the other side of the loft. “I know they say you shouldn’t go over things after you’ve taken them, but I kind of wanted to. In detail.”

 

Melinda’s hands stilled on a box of peanut butter cups. She wanted to talk to him too, bring up the concept of the Triskelion. It would be incredibly embarrassing if she’d spent the last week worrying herself over their potential partnership only to discover that Coulson didn’t want her. “We could do it later, if you wanted? After breakfast?”

 

“Perfect. Probably not much to talk about. I think we worked really well together.”

 

“I think we did too.”

 

Melinda kept searching for the pop tarts, disgruntled not to have found them yet. She hadn’t had time to eat before her meeting with Peggy and now she was _starving._ From behind her she heard a box slip to the floor and some papers. Clint _really_ needed to tidy this place up. She didn’t care if there was only a week left, he had a business to run and this was hardly a productive work environment.

 

“You know, I get why you don’t want anyone to know about Director Carter. People would probably think she was playing favourites when we head to D.C.”

 

Her head was half stuck in a trunk looking for the damn Pop Tarts so it took her a few seconds to replay exactly what Coulson had said. She looked up, turning on her heel to find Coulson clutching the provisional assignment list in his hand and wearing the _smuggest_ smile she’d ever seen on him. She _really_ needed to find a quick way to get rid of that.

 

“I figured you had it, this just proves it _._ ” Phil grinned. “I mean, it was pretty obvious. Harding told us about the provisional list on Friday, and Monday morning you’re partnering with me? It’s not hard to work out why. You wanted us to get to know each other before graduation.”

 

That was probably what she should have done. But not knowing Coulson she had no clue just what sort of agent he was, what sort of man he was. As it turns out, he was a better fit for her than Harlow and Phil had proved her misconceptions wrong time and time again. She was glad he had. “You got the list. When?”

 

“Over the years I’ve made friends with a lot of cadets. Harding always mentions the list two weeks before graduation. So I broke into his office on Thursday.” Melinda felt her bottom lip fall open. The surprises kept coming with Coulson. She really wanted to do something about that grin of his. _Kiss him._ No, not that. “What about you? How did you manage to get into Harding’s office?”

 

This time she wore her own smug smile. “Me and Clint broke into the Administration wing, got a copy of the list there.”

 

“Wow, that’s smart.” She’d impressed him. She liked that smile a lot more. “We’re gonna make one hell of a team.”

 

“That we are.”

 

Phil kept smiling as he also produced a box of the Pop Tarts they’d been searching for. Melinda walked over to pick up her share, craving sugary goodness. She reached for the box but Phil moved it just out of reach. She frowned at him as she tried again, but still Phil kept the box out of her grasp. If he wasn’t careful he was going to find himself flat on his back with either a very sore ankle or a very sore crotch.

 

“I just need to know that you’re okay with this. Working with me, I mean. It must have been one hell of a shock.”

 

Melinda nodded, watching as Phil’s face fell. She reacted instantly, reaching across to tangle her arms around his neck. They hadn’t been this close since the bus station, but there was no point keeping her distance. Not when Melinda knew how nice it felt to have him so near. “It was. But I’m okay, _more_ than okay working with you. Yesterday was…intense. But I loved it. I’ve never worked like that with anyone else.”

 

“Oh.” His smile was soft, sincere as he looked down at her. If they had still been on assignment this would be the perfect moment to kiss. But they were back to being Phil and Melinda, no romance wanted. None at all.

 

Phil bit the corner of his mouth as he looked down at her, a question playing on his lips. At least he’d regained the use of his tongue. “So, I’m better than Harlow?”

 

Rolling her eyes, Melinda pushed Phil into the shelves. She then took the opportunity to steal the last packet of chocolate Pop Tarts. Phil didn’t surrender easily; reaching around her to grapple for them. Laughter filled the small loft, just like it had yesterday in the bus station. Even when they weren’t playing a couple, she felt at ease with Phil. This partnership was going to be better than expected.

 

\--

 

After they’d eaten the rest of Clint’s Pop Tarts, Phil helped Melinda down from the loft hatch above the lecture hall. Melinda tried not to read too much into how his hand lingered on her waist, or how nice it felt to be held for the brief few seconds before her feet hit the floor. She was comfortable with him. That was a good sign. The last thing she wanted was to spend the next six to however many months stuck with someone that put her on edge.

 

“So, you want to go over the assignment?” Melinda asked as they threaded their way through the corridors.

 

Phil nodded, pausing as they reached a stairwell. He looked up rather than down, wearing a look she recognised all too well as the glint that signalled something was going down. “Willet’s office is only a couple of floors up.”

 

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. This was Phil Coulson, Respectable Young Man. _Full of surprises_. “Ae you seriously suggesting we break in for the marks?”

 

He shrugged, still grinning. “I’m with the master of all prank artists, aren’t I? It would be easier to go over the assignment if we have our grades. Consider it our second mission as a team.”

 

Phil was very persuasive, and Melinda had to agree that it would be helpful on both counts. She just didn’t think she’d be such a bad influence on Phil _already._ She’d expected it to take a few months before that kicked in. “Okay, but if we get caught I’m going to say it was your idea.”

 

“No offence, but no one’s gonna buy that.”

 

She gave him a quick shove before racing up the stairs. She heard Phil hot on her heels as they padded up the two flights of stairs to Willet’s office. All the instructors’ offices were on the top floor of the Operations building: their target a corner office, far away from any of the others.  Willet didn’t tolerate fools, he didn’t tolerate slackers. He tolerated criers even less. Twenty three of the drop outs from their year had failed Misrepresentation Studies. There was a reason no one wanted to work near him.

 

As they approached the main door that led to the corridor, Phil grabbed her wrist to stop her going any further. His thumb brushed along her skin and Melinda tried to push down the crackle of electricity she felt. It was just adrenalin from the break in. Nothing more.

 

“I’m going to be really pissed if we break in and I’ve failed.”

 

Phil shook his head as he ducked down, trying to assess if he could see anyone in the offices. “You didn’t fail. You’re confident, strong…I mean look at this, breaking into Willet’s office didn’t even _faze_ you.”

 

“This I can do. Pretending to be someone’s girlfriend, not so much.”

 

“Really?” Phil asked as he stood up. “I thought you were incredibly believable as my girlfriend.”

 

Phil gently placed both palms against the door, opening it softly so it didn’t creak. After a couple of deep breaths, Melinda followed. They stepped lightly, checking under doorways for shards of light and footsteps as they passed. So far it was the easiest break in Melinda had done in a while. Even if her partner was confusing her. She decided to write off his remark as a comment about her undercover ability, nothing more.

 

When they identified that the hallway was clear of any other instructors, they returned to behind the door. They wouldn’t be disturbed casing Willet’s office now, and they had plenty of time for that.

 

“So, have you had a lot of girlfriends?”

 

She wasn’t sure why she asked; _obviously_ he had experience with girls if he thought she was believable as his girlfriend. Melinda could easily imagine Phil as someone who surprised his girlfriend with roses, who drove his dates to the middle of nowhere just to kiss all night. It wasn’t the first time she thought that the girl who won Coulson’s heart was lucky. Every moment she spent with him she realised that.

 

Phil shrugged, and Melinda didn’t know why she felt so relieved. “No, not really. There could have been, maybe, if I hadn’t joined SHIELD.”

 

“Zimmerman’s got a girl back home.”

 

“I know, I guess he’s lucky. When I came back to my old town on my first leave, all my old friends were talking about frat parties and rush week and all the girls they’d hooked up with.“ Phil sighed, resting his head against the glass panel of the door. “I couldn’t explain to them that I’d learnt to fire four different handguns or that I could disable a man in thirty seconds flat.”

 

Melinda nodded. She was lucky in that regard. With her mother’s clearance she could talk to her about the languages she was learning, the skills she was acquiring. She could only imagine how difficult it would be not to share such a huge part of your life with someone. “Maybe you need to date someone within SHIELD.”

 

Phil picked his head off the glass to look at her. It was only then that Melinda realised what she’d said. It didn’t matter what she said now to cover her remark, Phil was already grinning. She really would have to experiment to see what would wipe that smile off his face and _quickly._ Kissing him was starting to sound like a really good idea.

 

Before either of them could say anything else, the door to Willet’s office opened; slamming hard enough that the sound reverberated all the way down the hall. Melinda grabbed Phil by the scruff of the neck and hauled him over to the wall, keeping him out of the way of whoever was storming down the hall.

 

The door just to the right of them banged open and Melinda looked over to see who it was. Her eyes met those of Nate Harlow. Her fellow specialist paused in his procession, his gaze unflinching as he took in how intimately she stood beside Phil. His eyes flickered between the two of them, lingering on her hand resting against his heart. It didn’t matter if they were involved. It didn’t matter if they weren’t. That simple touch was more than she had ever offered Harlow in public.

 

Harlow eventually tore his eyes from the pair of them and stormed off down the stairs. About a floor down came the sickening sound of a fist meeting plasterboard.

 

“What was wrong with him?” Phil asked.

 

“He failed.”

 

She and Harlow had been close. They had trained together, worked together, knew each other intimately on both the training mats and her bed. They were like two sides of the same coin. His reaction would be her reaction. A calm attitude to get out the door before resorting to anger in private. SHIELD had recruited Harlow straight from his reserves division, offering him grand promises of saving lives and defending not merely the nation but the world. He was a soldier, not a spy. That was where their similarities stopped.

 

The door banged open again and Melinda and Phil turned to see Agent Willet. He looked them up and down, his eyes narrowing as he clocked her hand on Phil’s chest. It wasn’t the best place for a make out session so that sent Willet’s cogs whirring. “You two wouldn’t be casing my office, would you?”

 

“Absolutely not, sir.”

 

“Of course, sir.”

 

Sometimes the best way to throw off people was with the truth. With a pretty face like hers and the brightest smile she could paint on, distracting with the truth was the best distraction of all. Phil gave her a look, shaking his head in a pantomime fashion as if he knew just what she was like. He’d been right, earlier. No one would ever believe it would be his idea to break into Willet’s office.

 

“You two are an _odd_ couple.” Willet frowned, the grooves of his face looking particularly menacing in the dim light of the stairwell. “I honestly thought I’d be handing you both failing grades. It saddens me that that’s not the case.”

 

“So we did well?” Phil asked subtly, as if he wasn’t digging for his grade.

 

Willet frowned even harder. “ _Disgustingly_ so. Neither of you are strangers to setting records, and now you’ve got another one under your belt. Apparently you two make quite the couple. None of the examining agents even realised you were with SHIELD.”

 

Melinda turned around to look at Phil, her new partner looking reasonably smug beside her. He’d had faith in her; he’d known that they would work well together. And work well they did. Her tactics had paid off; their constant stream of affectionate displays had been realistic and off putting. The chemistry between them was undeniable. Every look, every glance, every touch had appeared real.

 

“Harding is still deliberating the final list of placements but in my opinion it would be remiss of SHIELD not to use this to their advantage.” Willet smirked in her direction. This wasn’t going to be good. “Congratulations, Agent May. It looks like your new speciality is undercover work.”

 

“I’m overjoyed, sir.”

 

Willet sniggered as he made his way down the stairwell, leaving Melinda and Phil alone to celebrate. Phil was laughing, _crowing_ as he celebrated their excellent results. Melinda just stood, plastering on a smile as she tried to take in the news. She loathed undercover, she hated the whole concept. But she and Phil made an amazing team. Maybe it wasn’t too late to have a word with Harding. Maybe she would learn to enjoy undercover work.

 

Phil wrapped his arms around her, hugging her in celebration. Melinda sunk into his embrace, enjoying feeling so secure. As her fingers clenched the fabric of his Captain America t-shirt, Melinda started to wonder how much of their _incredible_ undercover work was all an act.

 

\--

 

“So: you got anything excited planned for the rest of your Saturday?”

 

Melinda managed a shrug as they headed out of the Operations building after their run in with Willet. “Not really. I have my Critical Thinking exam on Tuesday, should probably study.”

 

Phil came around to her side, his hands in his pockets as he stood beside her. He was smiling again, that warm smile that made her stomach clench. It was just attraction. She’d never once denied being attracted to Coulson. Anything else was remnants of yesterday’s assignment. That was all.

 

“We could study together if you wanted. I have the same exam on Tuesday. You know; if you wanted.”

 

She usually studied with Maria, sometimes with Clint. Their study sessions usually consisted of large pots of coffee and a pencil shaving war. She imagined she and Phil would actually get some work done. They were partners, after all. “Sure. Why not?”

 

Phil’s grin stayed with her for the entire journey to her dorm to get her notebooks and pens. As she met him outside the dorm rooms, his familiar bag slung over his shoulder, Melinda couldn’t help but smile back. This was comfortable, relaxing. Even the spikes of tension she felt in her stomach every time he looked at her she enjoyed. Phil told a story about his last all-nighter on the way to the library and he seemed so happy when she laughed at his jokes. He was a goofball. She liked that about him.

 

They came up to the door of the library, Phil’s hand shooting out to open it for her as she passed. “So, who are you using for the exam?”

 

“Wan. He wrote an incredible book, _The-_ “

 

“- _Silent Warrior,_ I know. He’s who I’m focussing on too, although I’m crossing him over with Bishop. I find his tactics fascinating.”

 

Of course there was no accounting for taste. Melinda rolled her eyes as they headed past the vending machines and computer lab for the stairwell to the third floor. Just when she thought they were actually on the same wavelength.

 

“You don’t look impressed. Who’s your pick?”

 

“Jackson.”

 

Phil grunted, opening another door for her as they continued their conversation up the stairwell. “You can’t be serious. Tell me you’re joking.”

 

“Do I joke, Coulson?”

 

“Well it took Ricci two weeks to grow his eyebrows back, so I’m going to say yes.”

 

She remembered that prank. Ricci had viciously embarrassed one of the freshmen and revenge had been necessary. The thought of Ricci waking up without eyebrows kept her smiling all the way to the third floor. They found their chosen text books easily enough, Phil making a great show of rolling his eyes when she pulled Jackson off the shelf. A table was available by the window and they camped down there, textbooks and pencils out.

 

“Still can’t believe you’re reading that trash.”

 

Melinda frowned as she took the seat across from him, opening the index in Jackson to find the topics she needed. “I could say the same about Bishop. Childish, irresponsible tactics. But then, you are a field agent, Coulson.”

 

His bottom lip dropped open and Melinda grinned across the table at him. It was all said in jest: Phil wasn’t the only one who could joke. He couldn’t take it very well as his foot connected with her ankle. Apparently they were in kindergarten now. Melinda retaliated with her own swipe to his ankles. With swords drawn on either side, a truce was drawn and they both began to make notes in their respective textbooks. It was nice to study without having pencil shavings shoved in her ear.

 

There wasn’t much room underneath the small study table, though, and Phil’s foot kept bumping against hers. But they worked through it. Melinda had just finished making her index notes when she realised Phil’s leg was rubbing against her own. He probably didn’t even realise he was doing it. It felt good, though, like any time he touched her. Maybe it was another jest. She ran her toes up the length of his calf, enjoying how his fingers stopped flicking through pages.

 

Suddenly her toes were rubbing against air and Phil was cursing.  “Are you okay?”

 

“Just peachy.”

 

It had been a stupid move, obviously he hadn’t realised that his leg had been stroking hers. His reaction at her touch had been a flashing red sign. He liked her, was maybe attracted to her, but that was as far as he wanted to go. And really, wasn’t that as far as she wanted it to go? She’d never been one for romance, for relationships. She always scheduled study sessions on Valentine’s Day and loathed the idea of flowers.  Why was she even upset?

 

Melinda looked up from her textbook to find Phil watching her, his smile soft and his eyes unmoving. “Is there something wrong?”

 

Phil swallowed, his hand brushing the pink skin of his neck _._ “No, not at all. I was about to start Wan, wondered if you wanted to go over it together. Just to see if there was anything one of us might have missed.”

 

“Sure.”

 

Melinda slid her chair over to his side of the desk so they could both see the text book. Their legs were brushing once more, her arm resting alongside his. Phil didn’t flinch, didn’t try to give himself space. What happened before was already forgotten. Time to study. “Which chapter are you focussing on? See Jackson deals with close combat and one-on-one tactics so I’m concentrating on chapters four through six. What about you?”

 

Phil’s hand joined hers on the contents page, his finger brushing hers as he pressed it against chapters seven and eight. “Large scale tactics. I thought I’d do something a little risky, see if it pays off.”

 

“You keep doing that. If you’re not careful, you’ll flunk out.”

 

“I think luck is on my side.” Phil took the book from the desk and flicked through the pages. “Wan brings up Jackson’s _dreadful_ strategies on assaults in chapter twelve. You’ll need to bring up conflicting arguments in the exam so I’d write that down.”

 

Melinda nodded, reaching over to get the wording right for her notes. “Thank you, Phil. I would give you some advice about Bishop but other than throwing the textbook and your grade out the window there’s not much more I can say.”

 

“Not funny.”

 

“You definitely won’t be laughing when you get your grade in.”

 

Melinda stretched across the desk and picked up her second edition Jackson, pulling it over to show Phil the perfect quote about why Bishop was so useless. Phil muttered as he leant forward to write it down. Melinda had moved forward an inch, and when Phil pulled back she could feel his breath tickle the skin of her neck. Her stomach clenched as she thought back to his lips in that amazing spot just behind her ear. Like she’d wished it, Phil tucked some hair away and his fingers trailed down that very spot. She tensed, craving more of his touch just _there_. 

 

“Sorry.”

 

She shook her head, trying to reassure Phil. He hadn’t don’t anything wrong. He’d done something very, _very_ right. “It’s fine.”

 

Phil kept his hands to himself as they continued to study, much to her disappointment. Maybe she was missing what Harlow had provided; maybe she was still caught up in yesterday’s cover. Either way, Melinda tried to bury herself in notations. Just as they started chapter seven, Melinda noticed out of the corner of her eye that they were being watched. She recognised Goodwin, Kim and _Garrett,_ slime ball that he was. Her fingers tensed as they looked in their direction and sniggered.

 

“They’re laughing at us.”

 

Phil sighed, putting his pencil down to rub at the bridge of his nose. “They’re laughing at _me_. Garrett thinks it’s hilarious that we’re partners now. The remarks aren’t witty but he keeps trying. You got any ideas on how to get rid of them?”  

 

“Sorry, used the water balloons on the freshmen last week. I could find Maria, she’d be more than happy to string him up the flagpole.” Melinda nudged his shoulder, jolting his blue eyes from the idiots in the corner back to her. “Does he tease you a lot?”

 

“I can handle him. I just hate when he brings you into it.”

 

Melinda rolled her eyes. It wasn’t the first time Garrett’s remarks had included her, wouldn’t be the last time either. For a surprisingly intelligent agent, his repertoire was fairly limited. “Let me guess, he thinks we’re sleeping together.”

 

“Actually, he’s rubbing it in because we’re not.”

 

It wasn’t the first time she’d heard such remarks come out of Garrett’s mouth, nor was it the first time she wanted to punch him there. As Melinda watched Phil, she saw the line of his shoulders sag, his chin drop. It was a sweet gesture to want to protect her from the remarks, and she appreciated that. But he was her partner too and if she could help him out then she would.

 

“Do you trust me?”

 

He nodded, his forehead furrowing as he tried to work out what she was up to. “Of course.”

 

“Then follow my lead.”

 

They were already sitting close together so it didn’t take too much effort for Melinda to slide her hand along his thigh. She felt eyes watch her as she moved her body against Phil’s, her breasts pressing against his chest. Her nails teased the nape of his neck, causing him to shiver just a little. Phil tensed completely when her teeth scraped against his earlobe. She continued worrying it with her teeth until she felt his hand rest against the small of her back.

 

“Pack up your stuff, we’ll take the books out and study in my room. Why put up with Garrett when we don’t have to?”

 

Phil thankfully followed her lead as they packed up their belongings, eyes firmly centred on each other instead of Garrett’s table. Melinda toyed with the hem of Phil’s t-shirt, impatiently tugging him out the library. This was just an act, a cover to get Garrett and his cronies off his back. But as Phil trailed after her to the stairwell, she recognised the look on his face. It was the same look he’d given her yesterday when they’d pretended to be in love.

 

Past the doors, they both let out a sigh of relief. Phil reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly in gratitude. “I can’t thank you enough. I know you’re a private person and that… _thank you._ ”

 

“It’s my pleasure. We’re partners now.” Melinda crossed her arms. “It wasn’t exactly a hardship.”

 

“Re-run of yesterday.” She felt his hand go clammy around hers and he immediately shoved them both in his pockets. “I suppose we should get used to that if Willet’s right. This week it’s screwing over Garrett, next month we’re on our honeymoon in the Cayman’s.”

 

Melinda laughed, but he had a point. They’d probably be playing couples for the next fifteen years, whole missions dedicated to holding his hand and kissing his lips and lying side by side in bed with him. She’d read Misrepresentation reports, seen the lengths that some undercover couples had gone. Melinda felt her stomach jolt as her mind flickered to images of her and Phil wrapped up in bed together, his hands running along her naked back, his mouth exploring her other hot spots. Suddenly she wondered if they were as good in bed together as they were everywhere else.

 

“We should go back to your room,” Phil whispered. Melinda hadn’t even realised he’d become so close. “Get those books finished. I’d hate for Garrett to spoil a pretty perfect day.”

 

Melinda nodded, her hand reaching out to grab the handrail but instead she found the firm plains of Phil’s chest. She wanted to go, needed to go, but instead her hand kept stroking the thin fabric of his t-shirt, feeling his shallow breaths suck in and out. His hand aimed to rest against the wall but somehow like hers it became diverted. Her fingers cupped her chin, lifting it up to his. His thumb brushed her bottom lip. Her mouth was dry, and her tongue caught the pad of Coulson’s finger as she wetted her lips.

 

Suddenly it all became too much. Melinda raised her chin to kiss him, just as he leant down to kiss her. In the force of it all Melinda found herself pressed against the wall, Phil’s free hand cupping her waist. She’d been waiting for this kiss and he did not disappoint. Phil knew just the right amount of pressure to kiss with, knew just where to kiss her to make her stomach tie itself in knots. His fingers grazed her jaw, holding her in place as his lips continued to sweep across her mouth.

 

She turned the tables quickly, twisting them so his back was digging into the fire alarm. Her hands sunk into his hair, nails scratching against his scalp. Phil let out the most glorious moan as his hands clenched her, unwilling to let go. Her teeth nipped at his plump lower lip, then the edge of his nose. Her lips hovered over his, brushing here and there as they regained their breath. When she opened her eyes, Phil’s had darkened. That was a good look for him.

 

“Good practice for the Triskelion, huh,” Phil said after a beat, his chest still shuddering.

 

Melinda nodded, her hands still tangled in his hair. “Yeah, the best.”

 

Both of them were lying.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Agents of SHIELD or any of its characters, or settings - all belongs to Marvel and ABC.
> 
> It's been a while since my last update. A *long* while. Whilst at times I've often hated this story, I'm really glad for the gap. In that gap it's allowed me to take the story in an entirely new direction, explore more of Phil and Melinda's partnership that wouldn't have been covered before. This is, essentially, the first chapter of the second half of their story. I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> As always, thank you for your patience. And thank you to suallenparker, elle-you-oh and melinda-qiaolian who were vital in helping me work through this chapter. Thank you all so much. Happy reading!

“I want to leave you with one final thought today. The thought that one man can accomplish anything once he realises he can be part of something bigger. You all leave today graduates of this Academy: one _small_ part of SHIELD. I believe that every single one of you can accomplish anything. I, personally, can’t wait to see _what._ Congratulations, Agents, and welcome to SHIELD.”

 

From the seat in front of her, Maria stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled. She wasn’t the only one. Melinda joined in the healthy applause from the fifty-seven graduating cadets and the select visitors in the stands. She recognised a handful of the agents now standing, most of them SO’s of the cadets graduating that morning. That included Phil’s SO, Agent Fury, who had given the commencement speech in place of Director Carter. Melinda felt her eyes wistfully searching the crowd, hoping for a last minute appearance. Neither her, nor her mother, were in attendance.

 

After the speeches came the procession up to the stage. Each cadet was handed a badge, a SHIELD collar pin fixed to their dress uniform, and a white envelope. Even though most cadets had already worked out their placements, those white envelopes would provide official confirmation of their assignment. Melinda had known for two weeks where she would be stationed, but there was still a seed of doubt burying in her stomach.

 

“Barton, Clint. Specialist.”

 

Melinda turned her gaze towards Clint, slapping her hands together as her friend ascended the stage. He shook Agent Harding’s hand, then Agent Fury’s. After he was presented with his badge and envelope, Clint gave her and Maria a wink and a grin before sauntering off the stage.

 

After a stream of other names were called, Melinda heard one that made her eyes pick up from the chair in front. Phil walked up to the stage, looking particularly handsome in his dress uniform. His shoulders were straight, his head held high as his SO handed him his badge and Harding fixed the pin to his collar. She knew how much this moment meant to him, how hard he had worked to make it to this ceremony. As he passed the two senior agents and headed down the other end of the stage, his eyes caught hers. Whilst he had been smiling on stage, he was now positively _beaming._

 

“Harlow, Nate. Specialist.”

 

Whilst every other name had been met with applause, Harlow’s name was not without a fine murmur from the crowd. His SO, Agent Creeley, was in the front row of the assembled agents. His gaze was firmly fixed on his protégé as he marched up to collect his badge.

 

“Creeley had to call in two favours,” Morton whispered beside her. “Nate’s lucky he only flunked Misrepresentation. Anything else and Harding wouldn’t have let him pass.”

 

Santiago pushed forward, her arms resting on the back of Morton’s chair. “Such bullshit. Just because they want him as a tactical officer. Tyler and Zimmerman flunked Misrepresentation and they’re on the bus back home with a non-disclosure order shoved up their ass.”

 

Melinda didn’t comment, not wanting to discuss her former lover any more than she had to. Maria, who now rose to the stage, had spoken in great length about this _travesty_ two nights ago. Most of it had been due to them drinking through Clint’s left over wine, but there was a grain of truth in her words. All that anger was now replaced by a grin as Maria was handed her badge. She was going to make an _amazing_ field agent.

 

Jackson. Johnson. Kim. Lopez. Lucas. Manning. Martell. _May._

 

“May, Melinda. Specialist.”

 

Sucking in a deep breath, Melinda got to her feet. She weaved her way out of the rows of folding chairs and up to the left of the stage. She’d never enjoyed the ballet recitals she’d had to endure, although she’d stomached the track meets she’d competed in through high school. This, with every eye on her, was disorientating. She made it up to the centre of the stage, shook Agent Fury’s hand and swallowed down the resentment that it should be _her_ SO standing there. It should be _Peggy_ handing her this badge.

 

As Fury stepped back, Harding took centre stage. He plucked the SHIELD pin from its small black box and fixed it to her collar. “You’re going to do great things, Agent May. I knew it from the first moment you stepped onto these grounds.”

 

The corner of Melinda’s mouth quirked up at the compliment. She was ready to be dismissed, to be handed that little white envelope and head down to the chairs with the others. But Harding reached for another box. He snapped it open, revealing another pin. It was tarnished; the silver had seen better days. But Melinda knew where it had come from, the old eagle with his wings outstretched.

 

“I remember the first day I met Peggy Carter. It was in an old SSR office and she was running rings around all the other agents and they didn’t even know it. I see a hell of a lot of her in you. I’ve watched you, these past four years, and I know you’ve worried about letting her down.” Harding’s long fingers tugged at her collar, pressing the old SSR pin into the fabric. “But don’t. You and SHIELD are Peggy Carter’s legacy. And she’s proud of _both of you._ ”

 

Melinda swallowed, reaching out to take Harding’s hand. “Thank you, sir.”

 

“You’re welcome. Congratulations, Agent May. Welcome to SHIELD.

 

\--

 

The badge was silver, set within a simple leather wallet. No cracks, no creases: brand new. Melinda sat cross legged on her bed, the pads of her fingers poring over every crevice of her new badge. She had never doubted reaching this point. Her only concern had been whether she would deserve it when she did. This week she’d pushed herself to the limit. Two of her ribs were still bruised from Hand to Hand, and she’d spent more nights swallowing lukewarm tea trying to keep awake than she cared to recall.  But none of that mattered now. _She’d made it._

Melinda was distracted from her badge by a light rapping at her dorm room door. She reluctantly left the badge behind to answer it. Phil Coulson was resting against her doorframe, fingers clutched tight against his badge and envelope. He was still wearing the dress uniform that made him look quite dashing. In her shorts and thin t-shirt she felt rather overdressed.

 

“ _Agent_ Coulson.”

 

“ _Agent_ May.”

 

She didn’t know whether to reach over for a hug or to grasp his hand and shake it. So she just offered another nod, smiling widely at the grin he offered her back. “Congratulations. This is it, we made it.”

 

“Yeah, god, I can’t believe it.” Phil swallowed, staring at her through the doorway. “I can only stop for a minute or two; Fury’s taking me and his other rookies out for lunch. Liquid lunch in Garrett’s case. I just…wanted to see you.”

 

Melinda nodded again, pressing herself against the gap between the door and her side of the wall. She was as close to Phil as she could be, but there was still a boundary. Still a line. “I’m sorry we haven’t had much of a chance to talk this week.”

 

“We’ve had a few moments together.”

 

“Yeah, but from my recollection there wasn’t a lot of _talking_ going on.”

 

A fine pink blush crept up from the back of Phil’s collar to the nape of his neck. Melinda could recall how warm his skin felt when she brushed her lips there. As Phil reached up to rub the back of his neck, Melinda wondered if he was thinking about her lips on his skin too. Every moment she hadn’t spent focussing on her exams, she’d been thinking about him. The kiss in the library. The heated _conversation_ back at her dorm room. A moment in the forest, just before the first rays of the dawn light. Till 3am after their Hand to Hand exam, both sweaty and exhausted and not willing to say good night just yet.

 

“It’ll all change now. Now that we’re partners.”

 

Phil nodded; his smile faltering if only for a moment. “Yeah, I know. I think. Have you opened your envelope yet?”

 

Melinda shook her head, throwing a look over her shoulder at the blinding white envelope with her name in typed black ink on the front. “Not yet. I’ve been too fascinated with the badge. You suddenly having second thoughts, Coulson?”

 

“Never. I just don’t want to get my hopes up.”

 

“Well come on, we’ll open them together. Just get in quick, before the neighbours start gossiping.”

 

Phil finally laughed, unfolding himself from the doorway to slip inside. Melinda resisted the urge to grab him by his collar and drag him in. She knew where that would lead and they had more pressing matters to attend to. Phil’s fingers brushed hers as they made their way over to her bed. His hands trembled on the fixings of his jacket, and Melinda held back from helping him out of the heavy black fabric. That would only lead to _another_ conversation quickly slipping off track.

 

Melinda returned to her position by the head of the bed, legs curled underneath her. Phil, as was his custom, perched on the edge with his legs hanging over the side. His head was bowed, his hands turning that envelope over and over in his grasp. If his knees started bouncing up and down she’d have to take some serious counter-measures.

 

“Stop clenching, Coulson.” He threw her a look. “You’ll be at the Triskelion, I’m sure of it. So just _open it._ ”

 

Phil sucked in a breath. He then held out the envelope to her. “Could you do it? Please?”

 

“Fine, but you look at mine.”

 

Melinda handed over her own white envelope, pleased that Phil only showed a moment’s hesitation before ripping into it. She’d spent the last two weeks so certain in the decision of her placement; had invested so much energy in initially changing and then accepting the decision. But she would be lying if she didn’t feel her own sliver of worry as Phil teased the notice out of the envelope.

 

“Agent May, Melinda…stationed at the Triskelion under Agent Himbry. I’ve heard of him, he’s Level Eight.”

 

“Wow.” She took the piece of paper from Phil’s fingers, reading the notification in black and white. There was information about times and dates of appearance, and guidance over the next few steps. Looks like she was going to have to start apartment hunting in Washington D.C. “Wow.”

 

Putting her own deployment away, she picked up Phil’s and slit open the envelope with a single finger. It was a similar page, just with certain details replaced. “Agent Coulson, Philip…stationed at Operations Training Academy under Agent Harding.”

 

Phil’s face fell. “What?”

 

“Yeah. Looks like I’m going to the Triskelion alone whilst you’re going to be stuck here…”

 

“Give me that.”

 

Phil grabbed for the letter, realising as soon as Melinda laughed and pushed him away that she was merely teasing him. It had been too good an opportunity to pass up. She paid for it now as Phil knocked her to her sheets, their bodies tangling up in one another as her partner tried desperately to grab hold of his notification. Eventually, with Phil straddling her hips and one hand pressing her arm down, he managed to see what had been inside his envelope.

 

“Agent Coulson, Philip, you are to be stationed at the Triskelion under the direct supervision of Agent Himbry.”

 

Maybe Phil hadn’t noticed how close their little tussle had left them. But Melinda had. They’d done the important stuff. They didn’t need to talk for a while. As she slid her hand up to cup his neck, she felt Phil gasp. “Guess you’re stuck with me for a while, huh?”

 

His smile was electric, and he let himself be pulled down to meet her. Phil’s eyes were bright, and at that moment she was the only thing in them. “Guess I’m lucky. That’s just right where I want to be.” He was so close. Melinda was waiting for him to close his eyes and sink into her. But he hesitated, his hand sliding down her arm to cup her cheek instead. “Can I kiss you?”

 

“You know, you don’t have to ask.”

 

“Maybe I just like hearing you say yes.”

 

Melinda’s hand pressed against Phil’s neck, leading him down towards her mouth. “ _Yes._ ”

 

Phil’s mouth was soft, hesitant against her own. It always started this way. The knuckles of Phil’s hand gently stroking her cheek; his other hand lifting her chin so he could kiss her properly. His lips were so tentative, his skin barely grazing hers. Melinda’s fingers threaded through his hair, teasing the nape of his neck until Phil released her lips to groan into the curve of her shoulder. She continued to pet him, stroke him, his lips now pressing heatedly against her bare skin.

 

Her hand dipped underneath his collar, caressing what she could find. Teeth nipped at her neck, slowly crawling up to that spot just behind her ear. Melinda threw her head back, wanting Phil to find that spot sooner, quicker.

 

But he pulled away before he could. Still, she wasn’t left totally unrewarded. Phil’s hair was suitably mused, his eyes bright and shiny as they looked down at her. “Melinda, I have to go.”

 

“Fury. Right.” She’d forgotten about his previous engagement in the midst of what had promised to be an exciting make out session. Melinda stayed against the sheets, focusing on slowing her breathing before she spoke again. “I’m sure he’ll understand if you’re a few minutes late.”

 

“Of course.”

 

Her arms went around his neck, curving her body against his. Phil’s hands clutched at her waist, gripping her back just as tight. She felt the pinprick of teeth against her mouth. His lips were hot and wet now, desperate and passionate in his embrace. Melinda pushed forward, her tongue tracing the crease of his mouth. Fingers cupped her jaw, her nails scratched along his scalp.

 

“I really need to go now.” Phil said; the words muffled against her lips. She pulled back to let him speak. “He’s my SO, and I’m sure Garrett and Morton are waiting.”

 

Melinda nodded, kissing Phil’s cheek before she moved a safe distance away. “It’s okay. Have fun.”

 

“I will.”

 

He bounced forward, capturing her lips in another brief kiss before pulling away. He pulled his jacket over his shoulders, hand grabbing for his envelope and newly issued badge. Melinda slid off her bed, thumbs hooked into the pockets of her shorts as she walked Phil to the door. Suddenly they were back in the frame, the boundary of the door keeping them apart.

 

“So, I guess I’ll see you soon,” Melinda said, bitterly swallowing the vagueness of that sentence. Tomorrow the seniors would depart for their four week leave before their assignments began. She was heading back to Pennsylvania, Phil to Boston. Somewhere between tomorrow and four weeks lied that _soon._

 

Phil nodded; the smile from earlier fading away as if he, too, was considering when next they’d get to see each other. “Yeah, I guess. Although, Garrett _is_ dragging me to the graduation party tonight. I’d much rather spend my last night on campus as far away from him as possible, but it should be fun.”

 

Melinda chuckled. “Yeah, I think I’ll probably end up there. Clint’s running the whole show, so I should at least stop by for a few drinks.”

 

In truth, Melinda had only intended to stay for one or two drinks with Clint and Maria before returning to her dorm for her last night at the Academy. Her bus to Pennsylvania left early tomorrow morning and she didn’t relish a long bus journey hung over. But _maybe_ she could stay a little longer if Phil was going.

 

“Suddenly the party isn’t looking so terrible.” Phil shoved his hands into his pockets, his grin shaky as he smiled at her. “So, as we’re both going, I was wondering if I could buy you a drink? Maybe even ask you for a dance?”

 

Melinda nodded, her head bouncing up and down. “Yes. That would be…” She paused, struggling to find the right word that was not too enthusiastic, yet not too blasé. “That would be fine. Great _,_ even. Now go on, Coulson. Can’t keep Fury waiting.”

 

Phil nodded, his lips lingering on the corner of her mouth as he said his goodbyes. “Till tonight, _Agent May_.”

 

Melinda watched him walk towards the stairwell, something extra in his step as he went along. Before the door closed, she saw him punch the air in triumph. Melinda rested her head against the doorframe, staring out into the space where Phil had last been. Her graduation ceremony might have been less than perfect: empty seats tarnishing the edges of her silver badge. But the graduation celebrations wouldn’t be so empty. She had Clint. She had Maria. She had _Phil._

\--

 

The Operations graduation party was held in the nearby town, with most of the cadets contributing a few dollars to rent a bar for the evening. First round was on the house, but the rest of the liquor would be on their own dime. Clint had deliberately picked the place with the cheapest alcohol to get more for their money. After all, they didn’t start earning a pay cheque until today.

 

Melinda stepped out of one of the borrowed SHIELD cars, thanking the cadet who had volunteered to drive them in. She followed the line of graduates to a dimly light bar with a huge dance floor. A couple of the kids lining up to get in she _didn’t_ recognise, and the bouncer shooed them away after a few words. As she made it to the head of the line, she saw that Agent Hamersley had volunteered to be bouncer.

 

“Private party, you got ID?”

 

Reaching into the bag hanging from her shoulder, Melinda pulled out her newly issued black wallet. She flicked it open to show the silver badge inside. “This good enough?”

 

“Try not to get into _too_ much trouble.”

 

Melinda saluted Hamersley as he pushed the door open to let her through. Inside was an entirely different world. Music pounded from the DJ’s speakers, conversation filtered through the gaps in the noise. There were some couples already on the dance floor, her fellow new agents looking completely different out of their SHIELD dress uniforms. A few raised their glasses to her as she passed, offering loud choruses of ‘congratulations’ in the process.

 

Threading through the crowd, Melinda caught sight of Maria. She was at the bar, holding focus with the bartender as he poured her a drink. Melinda slipped an arm around her shoulders as she came close. “There you are, _Agent_ Hill!”

 

“Here I am, _Agent_ May!” Maria winked at the bartender before turning her back. She grinned at her friend. “Boy, I think Clint’s out done himself this time. I almost feel like a real college student.”

 

Melinda snorted. She had never enjoyed the thought of attending college. She’d been so happy when Peggy had recruited her to SHIELD. This was where she belonged. Less keg stands, more assault tactics. Although she didn’t object to a party once in a while. “Yeah, but I doubt most college parties are filled with people who could dismantle a bomb, or lead an attack on a heavily armed compound.”

 

“They teach all sorts of things at colleges these days!” Maria took a sip of her drink, still grinning. “So, I’m off to the Cube. No need for further accommodation, got a bunk on site. What about you? You got to go apartment hunting?”

 

She frowned, gesturing to the bartender behind her to get whatever Maria was having. “Unfortunately. I’m thinking of cutting my leave in Pennsylvania early; take a week to get settled in before our assignment starts.”

 

“To settle in, of course. It would have nothing to do with your new partner being in D.C. at the same time without any instructors or parents around.”

 

Melinda rolled her eyes, offering her friend a despairing look. “Maria, as a newly minted SHIELD agent, you should be completely aware of Section 9, Rule 12. No sexual or romantic relationship is permitted between active SHIELD agents serving in the same unit, team or taskforce.”

 

“Yeah, but there’s still four weeks until that comes into effect.”

 

Melinda laughed, the laughter fading away as the crowds shifted. Through the mess of people, she caught sight of Phil Coulson sitting at one of the few available tables. He’d lost the dress uniform, but still looked incredible in an open collared shirt and jacket. He was smiling, eyes scanning the crowd for someone. As people turned and danced out the way, Melinda caught sight of two glasses of champagne sitting on the table. _He was searching for her._

“I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

 

Maria winked, body already twisting back to engage the bartender. “Just remember, it doesn’t start for another four weeks!”

 

Melinda passed through the cadets nearest the bar and those leaving the dance floor, her gaze solely focussed on Phil Coulson. Melinda knew the moment he saw her. His bottom lip fell open, his blue eyes widening as he took her all in. With most of her clothes already washed and packed, borrowing a dress of Maria’s was her only option. She resisted the urge to tug at the hem as she approached the table. Phil was already on his feet by the time she reached him.

 

“Hi, Phil.”

 

“Hi yourself.” He took her in once more, grinning from ear to ear. “You look _beautiful_.”

 

Melinda was thankful for the dim lighting. It hid all manner of reactions. “You clean up well yourself, Coulson. I like you in a shirt; it’s a good look for you.” She punctuated her point by fiddling with one of the buttons on the front. She pulled her hand back before she became too familiar with the fabric of his shirt. “So, you said something about a drink?”

 

“Yeah! I wasn’t sure what you drank, so I got us some champagne to start with.” He winced, as if realising that two glasses of champagne was more romantic than the situation warranted. “I could get something else. Whiskey, Vodka…Tequila?”

 

“Champagne is fine.”

 

Her comment earned a smile, and they both awkwardly moved back to the table to retrieve the two champagne flutes. They remained standing, leaning against the table and into each other. Despite the din and the rush of people, Melinda felt herself being drawn into Phil’s eyes. It was like it was just the two of them in the entire room, the entire world.

 

“To the Triskelion,” Phil said, holding out his champagne glass for her to clink.”

 

Melinda could barely hear the sound of the glasses in the rush of the party, but she could hear her own heartbeat in her ears. She swallowed, taking a sip of the bubbly. “To the Triskelion.”

 

They both took another sip, licking their lips free of any remaining drops, before they returned the glasses to the table. Neither Phil nor Melinda made a move to sit down, or even to return to the bar for another drink. Melinda reached out once more, fingers fiddling with the middle button of his shirt. Phil leaned in closer, his hand reaching up to run along the strands of her hair.

 

“Would you greatly object if I kissed you now?”

 

They wouldn’t be the only couple in the room kissing. There were those who had fallen in love during their four years training and would be heading off to different sides of the world. There were those who were looking for a warm body and a good time. Melinda usually revolted at such displays, preferring her intimacy in private. But a part of her really wanted to see how that champagne tasted on Phil’s mouth.

 

“I think I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

 

Smiling, his eyes closed as he bent down. Melinda tilted her chin, wanting to meet his mouth. She could feel his breath against her cheek. But not his lips, not yet. Suddenly Phil was jostled from behind, falling forward into Melinda. She held onto both of them, using the table as an anchor. The party had been going on for a couple of hours before Melinda had arrived, and some of the cadets were already three sheets to the wind. The cadet didn’t even seem to notice he had bumped into Coulson. But then it was _quite_ the party.  

 

“MEL! COULSON!”

 

The cadet who called out to them from across the bar _could_ hold his liquor. Clint was dragging a reluctant Maria over to their table, a tray full of shots in his hand. _This_ was what she had been afraid of in coming here tonight. A pounding headache, sore eyes and a bad taste in her mouth was not fun on a slow moving bus back to her family home. Yet as Clint approached, she couldn’t deny herself _one_ shot. This was probably the last time they would get to see each other for a while.

 

“I got four; Maria said Coulson was joining us.” Clint slapped him on the back as they all gathered around the table. “Here we are: one shot for all, all for one.”

 

He passed them out, the alcohol a lurid colour in the plastic glass. They raised them to the centre of the table, each one wearing a smile. After a couple of beats with no speech, Maria took charge of the toast. “Okay, here’s to you three. Melinda, Clint, you have been my friends for the last four years and every day with you has been another story I can tell in bars for years to come. Phil, you are one hell of a field agent. I look forward to saving the world with you one day. To SHIELD!”

 

“To SHIELD!”

 

After the dull clink of plastic cups, they each threw back the shots. It stung as it went down, the alcohol sticky on her mouth. To the right of her, Phil screwed up his face. She was glad to see it wasn’t just her. “God, Clint, what was in that stuff?”

 

“Graduation joy.”

 

They all descended into laughter. Phil made another face before he dropped the plastic glass to the table. “Well, I think I’m all out of graduation joy. I’d drink the champagne to rinse the taste out but I’m not sure how that would mix. I really don’t like the idea of throwing up all the way to Boston.”

 

“Then you’ll just have to drink more of…” Clint inspected one of the plastic glasses. “More of this stuff. I’ll go get another round, you guys wait right here!”

 

Clint headed back to the bar, another round of cheap alcohol in their future. All three of them looked around desperately, trying to find a way out. Phil was the first one to see a prospect. He held out his hand to her, feet already heading for the dance floor. “Would you like to dance?”

 

“Hell yes.”

 

Melinda took Phil’s hand, linking their fingers as he took her to the floor. Maria gave her a wink as she watched them, filling in Clint when he returned with more drinks. Once they were all back in the same country, they would have to spend a night catching up in a bar. Melinda could only imagine the stories they would get to tell. She could even regale Phil with Academy tales. But for now she was happy to be dancing with Phil, one hand casually pressed to his shoulder as they moved with the music.

 

“I’m not really one for dancing, but this is okay,” Melinda said, moving her body closer to Phil. His hand was loose on her waist, alternately pulling her closer and dropping space: whatever the beat demanded. “Do you remember that dance elective? Second year?”

 

Phil nodded, groaning as he recalled the memories. “ _Oh yeah._ You know, I only signed up for that on the off chance I would get to dance with you. Then you dropped out and I got stuck dancing with Sitwell for a semester.”

 

Spinning into him, Melinda pressed her back against Phil’s front. His hands spanned her waist, helping her move against him. If the dance elective had been _this,_ she wouldn’t have dropped out. “You’ve wanted us to be partners for a while, huh?”

 

“For a while.” His nose brushed her cheek. “I was so thrilled when I saw that list.”

 

Across the bar, Melinda watched Harlow order another drink. He looked sullen, his body coiled tight as he drunk alone. For a moment she wondered what she would be doing if the list had been different; if the instructors had made a different call. She wondered if she would be this happy. “I wasn’t. I was pissed.”

 

“You wanted to be with Harlow.”

 

Melinda nodded. “Yeah. I even thought if I could _prove_ that we weren’t good together, then they’d change the list.” She looked up, saddened to see how the light in Phil’s eyes had dimmed. She slid her hand against his cheek, offering him a little comfort. “Then you knocked me on my ass that first Hand to Hand class. No going back after that.”

 

Phil smiled, some of the light returning. “I know the feeling. Hand to Hand, our first year. You knocked me on _my_ ass. Definitely no going back.”

 

Turning once more, Melinda tied her arms around Phil’s neck. She grinned as his hands held her waist tighter, closer, until there wasn’t even a gap for air between them. Melinda reached up until her mouth was close enough to kiss. “I’m so happy it’s you.”

 

This time, no one disturbed their kiss.

 

\--

 

“I really like that dress.”

 

Melinda snorted, taking the hem in both hands and swishing. “It’s Maria’s. You’ve already seen me in the one dress I have. But I’ll pass on the compliment.”

 

Phil laughed, reaching out to grab her hand. It was warm, fingers sweaty as he pulled her towards him. After their dance they had retreated to the bar for more drinks. Her head felt bubbly, but it was worth it. This was their graduation. It should be _celebrated._

 

For once, the Operations campus was doing the same. The instructors didn’t patrol the grounds on graduation night, either hoping that the newly issued SHIELD agents would be more responsible now they had a badge in their hands, or they didn’t want to stop the party. Either way, cadets were sneaking off into the woods or sneaking into rooms unheeded. Confetti and streamers had been thrown, damp paper in rainbow colours sticking to Melinda’s heels as they walked through the still campus.

 

“It’s so quiet,” Melinda said, falling in line with Phil as they walked past the academic building towards the accommodation halls. “I can’t believe tomorrow we’ll be leaving. Every time the year ends, I always know I’ll be coming back. But not this time.”

 

She felt Phil’s hand squeeze hers. Smiling, she squeezed it back. “Maybe we’ll end up as instructors here one day. I could see you taking over Operations, scaring all the new cadets.”

 

Melinda snorted. “I don’t think so. That’s not where I see my future.”

 

“Where do you see your future?”

 

She shrugged. Since she was a child, her mother had tried to dictate her future. Melinda had always revolted against such plans. Right now her future consisted of the next four weeks, followed by the Triskelion. Anything else had yet to be decided. “I’m not sure.”

 

“You could be Director. Take over from your SO. _Director May._ ” Phil grinned, parting their hands so he could tuck it around her waist. “I kind of like that.”

 

Melinda leaned in, hand resting against his shirt. “It’s got a nice ring to it. _Director Coulson._ Now that sounds good.”

 

Phil groaned, his hand sliding her closer against his body. “Okay, that’s turning me on a little.”

 

Melinda stole a kiss, lips lingering just for a moment before she pulled away. “Noted, _Director._ ”

 

When they finally reached the accommodation building, they both paused. She wanted to invite Phil up to her room, wanted him to slowly unzip her dress and discard it on her dorm room floor. She wanted to undress him, let her fingertips wander over his skin and find the spots that made him curl and crow. As she let herself toy with the buttons of his shirt, Melinda hoped that she would get what she wanted.

 

“I’m still kind of wired,” Phil said, filling the silence that had overwhelmed them. “I’ll probably sleep on the bus back to Boston tomorrow. Do you maybe want to do something? Like, watch a movie or something? “

 

Not entirely what she had in mind, but Phil’s dorm room was a good place to start. “Sounds good to me.”

 

Phil, ever the gentleman, opened the door and let her pass through. She was unable to keep the smile off her face as they walked up the two flights of stairs to his room. The corridors were mostly quiet: just cadets sneaking out for a late night or tumbling in from the graduation party. Thankfully they made it to Phil’s room without incident, her partner stumbling at the door as he struggled to get his key card in.

 

“Stupid lock…”

 

Phil cursed, trying again to force the card in with no avail. Giggling, Melinda reached over and turned the key the right way around. “Maybe try it this way?”

 

The card worked first time, Phil’s door opening automatically in front of them. Phil looked sheepish as he gestured her across the threshold. “Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

Melinda had only been in Phil’s dorm room once, just before their Misrepresentation assessment. But it looked completely different now. Posters had been pulled from the walls; ornaments had been placed into boxes. The wardrobe still needed to be packed up, but most of Phil Coulson’s Academy career was already in cardboard boxes or duffel bags. As Phil rootled in one of the bags by his desk, Melinda kicked off her heels and headed for the bed.

 

“How strange do you think it’s going to be tomorrow morning?” Melinda asked, pulling herself up on Coulson’s bed. “Everything boxed, everything bagged. Room looking like it did when we moved in?”

 

In front of her, Phil sighed. She saw his gaze fall over his boxed belongings. “This place has been home for so long. I moved from the house my parents bought when they were pregnant with me into this dorm room. I think it’s going to be even stranger moving into somewhere new.”

 

“It’s been coming for months now but I didn’t think I’d feel this sad. We’re going to the _Triskelion._ But you’re right, this has been home.”

 

Phil nodded wistfully before returning to his movie search. After a few moments of digging he found something, turning on his heel to hold it up for her inspection. However, his moment of triumph seemed to fade as he saw her lying on his bed.

 

“Is there a problem?”

 

Phil shook his head vigorously, shaking as he got to his feet. He swallowed, tongue sliding out to wet his mouth. “Cary Grant or Lon Chaney? I’m kind of into the classics.”

 

Melinda shrugged. She’d seen a few Lon Chaney Junior films, mostly old horror flicks. Cary Grant was a mystery to her. “You pick.”

 

“I think we’ll go with Grant. This is one of his best; I used to watch it all the time when I was a kid. It’s really romantic.”

 

With the film starting to roll, Phil, minus his jacket, joined her on the bed. His elbow propped up his head as he lay beside her, his other hand resting in the narrowing gap between their bodies. Melinda couldn’t help but stare at her partner. Relaxation suited his features. He was so _handsome_ like this. She felt herself reaching out and touching the curve of his jaw, feeling the slight rough of stubble prickling her skin. Her thumb brushed his bottom lip, giggling when he kissed it. She ran her finger down the length of his nose, across his cheek. He shook as she caressed his throat, feeling his skin tremor as he moaned.

 

As her hands explored the nape of his neck; Phil’s free hand broke that gap to tease her bare skin. The straps of Maria’s dress were thin, and it didn’t take much to push them to the side. Her breath caught as she felt the rough of Phil’s fingers glide over the bodice, dipping just slightly into the valley between her breasts. She was painfully aware of every crease, every callous on his hands as he caressed her collarbone, her neck.

 

“Can I kiss you?” Phil asked; his voice hoarse.

 

Melinda nodded, both hands sinking into his hair to pull him down. “Yes. _Yes._ ”

 

Warm lips pressed where his fingers had teased. Melinda could feel Phil’s bottom lip catch the fabric of her dress, his top lip barely meeting skin. His fingers pulled the strap of her dress down further, opening her shoulders up to more kisses. She tugged on his hair, brown tufts threading through her fingers as she pushed him for more. His breath was hot against her neck, panting low and steady before his lips found that place behind her ear. The first flicker of tongue was her undoing.

 

Before they could go any further, the first few bars of the opening credits started to play. Phil reluctantly pulled back, his hand now closer to her in that sliver of a gap between their bodies. “This is a great movie.”

 

“I’m sure it is.” Melinda swallowed a yawn, recalling just how early she had woken up to press her dress uniform. Watching a little bit of the movie would thrust her awake, alert her senses. Fooling around with Phil was no good if she fell asleep. “Okay, tell me what’s going on here.”

 

Smiling, Phil started explaining what was going on in the first scene of the movie. As the video continued, they both settled against the pillows. Melinda leant her head on Phil’s chest, her hand resting over his heart. As Cary Grant tried to woo some pretty dame on screen, Phil started to stroke her hair. Melinda felt all the tension ease out of her. The exams were over, she’d graduated from SHIELD. She could breathe again.

 

Melinda didn’t make it twenty minutes into the film before sleep finally caught up with her.  

 

\--

 

Blinking open her eyes, Melinda thought for a moment she was back in her own dorm room. But the walls, on closer inspection, didn’t carry the marks and scuffs from years of pranks and accidents. The sheets weren’t hers either. Nor was the arm loosely wrapped around her body. Peering over her shoulder, Melinda realised she’d fallen asleep with Phil. _Shit._

 

Wetting her dry lips, Melinda gently eased Phil’s arm from her body. He huddled back against the sheets, free hand now resting beside his head on the pillow. They must have fallen asleep watching the movie. Cuddled up together on Phil’s bed like an actual couple.

 

She needed to leave. _Now._

 

Melinda softly climbed off the bed, her bare feet padding against Phil’s floor to retrieve her bag and shoes. She made two steps towards the door when she heard Phil shift on the bed behind her. Melinda looked back, pushing down the way her stomach leapt at the smile Phil gave her. He was sleepy, his shirt creased to within an inch of his life and his hair sticking up at odd angles. But he was smiling at her like she was the world.

 

“Hey.” Phil said, rubbing his face as he sat up. “Everything okay?”

 

“Yes, it’s fine.” Melinda crossed her arms over her body. “I just need to finish packing; get this dress back to Maria.”

 

Phil nodded, turning his head to see out the window. “It’s still early. You could come back to bed.”

 

He was beaming, his smile so lazy and relaxed that Melinda was incredibly tempted to return to his bed, to curl against him as they slept for a little while longer. But her heel had already moved an inch back, already heading for the door. “I have to go.”

 

“Is everything okay? Did I do something?”

 

Melinda shook her head. Dropping her bag and shoes, Melinda crossed over the room and sat down beside Phil. He looked so cute half asleep. She really wanted to tease the hair that was at odd angles. She wanted to feel his stubble after he had just woken up. But she balled her hands into fists and kept her urges to herself. “Everything’s fine. I just need to finish packing. I’ve got an early bus. Last night was wonderful; I really had a great time.”

 

“Me too.”

 

One indulgence wouldn’t hurt. Her lips were meant for his cheek, but ended up more on his mouth. Melinda pulled back before it went any further. “I’ll see you in four weeks, okay? Take care of yourself, Coulson.”

 

“You too.”

 

She grabbed her bag and shoes as she left. As she headed back to her own dorm room, Melinda started chastising herself for such a stupid mistake. She’d done this dance so many times, knew the steps like clockwork. The rhythm of foreplay, the thrust of sex. The process of changing sheets and showering. The peace of sleeping alone. Waking up beside someone was new, confusing. But then, Phil had always confused her.

 

Hopefully four weeks away from him would give her some clarity.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Agents of SHIELD or any of its characters, or settings - all belongs to Marvel and ABC.
> 
> So, I finally finished this chapter. It seemed to take longer to write than chapter six, which took five months. Anyway, I hope it's alright as I was not very well through editing. A huge, massive thank you to melinda-qiaolian who has been amazing this week in encouraging me to write and been listening to all my rambles. And thank you to everyone who's been so excited about the teasers I've posted. Enjoy!

Melinda had thought her leave would fly by. She had imagined the days ticking along at a rapid pace and then _suddenly_ she would be there. _The Triskelion._ But life was never like Melinda imagined it. Tea with family and her mother’s friends had produced tedious afternoons, with Melinda running ten miles each night just to exert some energy. Melinda and her mother were either painfully civil or descending into bitter arguments, especially after her mother took a six day operation right in the middle of her leave. The date circled twice in red on her calendar – the day she left for D.C. - seemed like it never would arrive.

 

But it did, a full five days earlier than initially planned so Melinda could find a new apartment in the city. The bus trip had been tiresome, but having her mother drive would have been even worse. All that faded away as Melinda set her foot down on D.C. soil, her mind washed clean by the sights and sounds of the city. After four years of training, she was finally _here_.

 

Grinning, Melinda went to retrieve her luggage. Most of her belongings would be picked up in a couple of weeks, but she’d brought clothes and books to get her new place started. As she approached, the driver handed her one of the bags.  “You here for college, kid?”

 

“No, got a new job in the city.” Melinda didn’t elaborate; instead grabbing the suitcase to the driver’s left. After he handed her the box full of photographs and trophies, she was all set. “Thanks a lot.”

 

“You got someone picking you up, kid?”

 

“I sure hope so.” 

 

With a duffel bag on one shoulder, a suitcase in one hand and a box carried precariously under one arm, Melinda navigated her way through the bus terminal. She tried to spot a familiar face in the crowds, even looked for her name on hastily scrawled signs. _Nothing._ Melinda decided to try outside, see if she could spot a car or a well-dressed figure waiting for her there. It was starting to spit with rain, a few splashes catching the top of her cardboard box. Frowning, Melinda looked up to see dark clouds gathering overhead. Maybe she should find a pay phone, call for a cab.

 

“Ms May! Ms May!”

 

A figure dashed across the parking lot, polished brogues splashing in puddles as the gentleman crossed to her side of the terminal. In all the years she’d known Edwin Jarvis, she’d never known him to have a hair out of place or a button undone. That afternoon was no exception. He even had his umbrella up, ready to shield her from a summer rainstorm.

 

 

“My apologies for the tardiness. The traffic is absolutely _terrible_ this time of day.”

 

“It’s fine, Jarvis. I’m just happy I don’t have to get a cab.”

 

He nodded politely, his eyes glancing over her small form laden with bags. “Well, then, let us be off. Do you need any help with your luggage?”

 

“You’re not a butler anymore, Jarvis.”

 

A smile. “No, I am not. But I do find the habit rather hard to break. May I?”

 

The rain was picking up pace and Melinda was struggling to keep the box under the umbrella. Not wanting to ruin her things, she relented and passed Jarvis her suitcase. They walked briskly across the car park, stopping at a well-kept Lincoln. Together they slotted her luggage in the trunk, Melinda slamming down the lid after they were done.

 

Whilst she was grateful to Jarvis for picking her up, Melinda realised she would have preferred to see Peggy waiting for her at the terminal. As if reading her mind, Jarvis’ first topic of conversation was her mentor. “Ms Carter sends her regards; unfortunately one of those blasted sub-committees is occupying a great deal of her time. I think Ms Carter misses the days when she could shoot at politicians.”

 

Melinda snorted. She and Jarvis had never had much in common, but they’d always had Peggy. After having trouble gelling at first – Melinda being used to an empty house, Jarvis unused to a guest who made so little noise – they bonded over her SO. Melinda had grown to love the afternoons he made pastries and told her old stories. “I assume she’ll be home late, then?”

 

Jarvis nodded. “Unfortunately so, she’s been home late every night this week.” Melinda frowned, turning away from Jarvis to stare out at the increasingly grey sky. She’d come to D.C. early to find an apartment, yes. But she’d also come to spend time with her mentor. “You know, despite the late hours, Ms Carter has been in a wonderful mood these past few days. Whilst I would love to take credit, I rather think it is the prospect of having you home.”

 

Melinda couldn’t help the smile. “Thanks, Jarvis.”

 

“My pleasure.”

 

Peggy’s house was tucked away just outside the city in a pleasant neighbourhood where no one would expect the director of a secret intelligence agency to reside. Melinda had always loved her house, from the wrought iron railings out front to the large garden out the back. The summer before joining the Academy she had trained with Peggy in that garden, honing her hand to hand skills and learning the basic SHIELD regulations. Every summer she came back, and one memorable Christmas when her mother had had to work. It felt right that she should stay within these walls before beginning her career at SHIELD.

 

Inside the house, not much had changed since the previous summer. There was a new alarm system, a result of a botched assassination attempt last spring. Melinda thought there might have been a fresh coat of paint on the walls. The photographs seemed to change all the time: now Peggy’s niece featured prominently in a great many frames. There was one additional frame, set right at the front of the collection. Melinda hadn’t remembered a photographer at her graduation; she would have smiled had she known. She smiled now, bright and wide, at the thought of her picture sitting amongst Peggy’s family and friends.

 

Behind her, Jarvis brought in the last of her luggage and set the alarm. “Shall I let you settle in, Ms May? Second on the left, as always.”

 

She took her duffel bag, one foot already on the stairs. “Thanks, Jarvis.”

 

Her feet took the familiar route up the stairs and to the bedroom she always had on her visits. She’d chosen it four years ago due to the amazing sunlight that flooded it early morning. It also had a window nook, similar to her room back home and perfect for sneaking out. But, unlike home, Peggy actively encouraged her to do just that. Looking out that very window, Melinda stared out over the garden and the view of the city in the distance. In the city there was Peggy, the Triskelion and the hundreds of SHIELD agents that worked inside. _There was Phil._

 

Melinda wondered what her partner was doing now, whether he was in his new apartment unpacking or maybe at the Smithsonian soaking up the history. Leaning closer against the window, Melinda smiled wistfully at the thought of Phil Coulson. She’d spent over three years barely talking to the man. Three weeks apart and she felt the familiar ache like something was missing.

 

A light tap on the door signalled Jarvis’ arrival although Melinda had heard his shoes on the stairs. She turned from the view, smiling at the former butler. “Everything okay?”

 

“Absolutely. I just wanted to check that everything was fine.” She nodded. “Marvellous. I’m just popping out; we’re sadly missing a few ingredients for dinner. I take it you’ll be alright?” Another nod. “Is there anything you’d like?”

 

Melinda paused, thinking for a moment. “Pop Tarts, please Jarvis. A couple of boxes if I could?”

 

He nodded, already retreating out the door. “By all means. Welcome home, Melinda.”

 

 _Home._ That’s what she was here to find.   

 

\--

 

Tai Chi had been her method of relaxation ever since she was small. After her father’s passing, her mother had woken her one morning and took her down to the garden. It was barely light, but by the time they were finished there wasn’t a single square of their garden in the shade. The next morning, unable to sleep properly without her mind straying to her father, Melinda had waited in the garden for her mother. It had been their tradition, every morning as the sun came up. It lasted until her mother went away again.

 

But Melinda never stopped doing Tai Chi.

 

Her routine over the last few weeks had been tested. First the confusion over her assignment; then the difficulty of returning home. But as soon as the first rays of sunlight crept through her window, Melinda was awake. She dressed quickly, softly padding downstairs and out the patio door. Peggy’s garden was spacious, a large plot of grass surrounded by beautiful flower beds. A well-cared for lemon tree was plotted in the back. Breathing in the peace and fresh air, Melinda began her routine.

 

Halfway through, Melinda noticed the upstairs curtains twitch. She continued on, slowing when she saw a window open in the kitchen. Just as she went through the last movements, the patio door slid open.  Carrying a tray with two cups of tea, Peggy settled herself at the garden table. Melinda tried to focus on her routine, finishing a little quicker than she would normally. Finally done, Melinda glanced over at her mentor. She was _beaming._

 

“Good morning, Melinda.”

 

“Morning, Peggy,” Melinda said, joining her on the patio. “Is this for me?”

 

She nodded. “Jasmine, I hope you like it.”

 

Melinda took a sip, enjoying the taste. “It’s perfect, thank you. You didn’t have to go to so much trouble.”

 

Peggy sighed, taking a sip of her own tea. “It’s not _any_ trouble, Melinda.” She reached over and patted her free hand. “It’s good to see you. I just wish you could stay longer.”

 

A part of her would quite happily stay here forever, reading in the nook and watching the lemon tree every morning as she did Tai Chi. But she had to find her own place in the world, starting with the apartment viewings today. Melinda took another sip of her tea, leaning back on the chair to admire the garden. “I’ll see you at work. Although it still doesn’t seem real that I’ll be at the Triskelion. It’s a big honour.”  

 

“One you _richly_ deserve, Melinda. I saw your scores, they were very impressive. I’m rather looking forward to reading your first mission report. How is Captain America, by the way?” Peggy asked, resting her teacup on the saucer. “Your new partner, I mean. Agent Coulson.”

 

Melinda’s own tea cup paused half way to her lips. “I…” She didn’t know what to say. “I don’t know.”

 

Peggy’s eyes narrowed at her. “I see. I only ask because Agent Harding told me last week that you’d requested contact information so you two could talk before your first day.”

 

Melinda remembered putting that secure call through, trying to act nonchalant as she asked Harding for a telephone number. It was one week into her leave, her mother was gone and Melinda’s mind was driving her insane. Maybe if she called, maybe if they talked, that would clear her head. She’d had the number written down, pinned to the board above the phone. Six days she tried, got as far as the sixth digit before hanging up. She hadn’t known what to say to Phil any more than she knew what to say to Peggy now.

 

“Melinda?” She finally looked up, watched as concern flooded Peggy’s face. “Is everything alright? You can tell me anything, you know. Did something happen?”

 

Maybe telling Peggy would give her the clarity she needed. “ _I slept with him._ ”

 

Peggy paused, sipping her tea whilst she collected her thoughts. When she placed the cup back on its saucer, Melinda knew she had an answer for her. “Despite Harding’s best efforts, the Academy does exist outside of some SHIELD protocols. Sex is not a problem, Melinda; it’s certainly nothing I’ll chastise you for.”

 

If only this _had_ been sex. She knew how to handle that. This was well outside her comfort zone. “I meant that we _slept_ together. After the graduation party we went back to his room and we fell asleep. Then I woke up and we were…I’ve never woken up with someone before.”

 

“Ah.”

 

“Yeah.” Melinda suddenly wished she had something stronger than tea in front of her. “Peggy, I don’t know what to do.”

 

“Do you like him?” Melinda nodded. “Do you love him?”

 

At that, Melinda had to laugh. “I’ve known Phil for four years but we only really started talking five weeks ago. You can’t fall in love in five weeks.”

 

Peggy’s eyes were hot, unflinching as she stared across the table at her. “Are you sure about that?”

 

Melinda had thought she had it all worked out. She didn’t want to get married, knew that a long term relationship was an impossibility with her work at SHIELD. With that in mind, Melinda had enjoyed a series of casual relationships. She wasn’t built to play the doting girlfriend who took her guy home to meet Mom. For four years she had been happy with that. Then Phil Coulson had come along.

 

“I don’t think I’m sure of anything anymore.”

 

They drank the rest of their tea in silence, Peggy leaving Melinda to her thoughts. She had wanted something definitive, some helpful hint or a firm declaration over what she should do. Instead, Peggy was leaving her with more questions than answers. She thought them over in the shower, trying to articulate just how she felt to the showerhead. Melinda had always been better with actions. After showering and dressing, Melinda headed down to the kitchen for breakfast. Maybe a day walking over D.C. would give her some clarity.

 

Stepping into the kitchen, Melinda found Peggy reading the paper whilst Jarvis cooked breakfast. She had smelt the bacon and eggs from upstairs. “Morning, Jarvis.”

 

“Morning, Ms May,” he greeted, turning from the stove to pour her a fresh glass of orange juice. “No doubt you’ve worked up quite an appetite this morning. What will it be: eggs and bacon, pancakes perhaps? Your Pop Tarts are in the cupboard to the left.”

 

Feeling the glare of her SO, and already hearing the lecture that Pop Tarts were not a healthy breakfast, Melinda went for option a. “Pancakes, please Jarvis, with bacon.”

 

“Still like it crispy?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Melinda sat down at the breakfast table, sipping her juice. Peggy was now dressed, ready for her town car to take her to the Triskelion. Melinda wondered what she had planned for the day, and whether her SO would even tell her if she asked. Jarvis was humming as he cooked, occasionally reading the newspaper over Peggy’s shoulder when a story caught his eye. He presented both of them with a full plate of food and even a parsley garnish to the side.

 

“There we are, a breakfast fit for champions,” Jarvis said, beaming as he surveyed his handiwork. “Are you two eating lunch out, or would you like me to make you a sandwich?”

 

Peggy shook her head. “I’ve got a lunch meeting with Deputy Director Slater today. What about you, Melinda, all set for apartment hunting?”

 

She had spent the last three weeks looking at vacancies, both SHIELD accommodation and private landlords. She’d eventually narrowed it down to three, two she’d see today and one tomorrow. “I think so. Any tips?”

 

“Look for mould in the bathroom, chips in the paint. And, if you can, look at the quality of the pipes,” Jarvis advised, taking the international section from Peggy when she was finished. “The last thing you want is to have a two month operation in Tahiti and come back to a mess.”

 

Melinda nodded, taking his advice on board. “Peggy, any advice?”

 

“Try and enjoy it. You only get to find your first apartment once.”

 

She’d mostly seen apartment hunting as an imposition. All she wanted was a place with a few bookshelves, a space for Tai Chi and maybe a closet she could turn into a dark room. But Peggy was right. This was going to be her first apartment so she should at least try and enjoy the process. It would be better if there was someone to go with her, someone she could share the experience with. Someone who understood. She needed a friend. And despite any confusing feelings, she only had one friend in D.C.  

 

“Could I make a call, please?”

 

Peggy looked over from helping Jarvis wipe syrup off his tie. She was smiling, her eyes glinting like she knew exactly what Melinda was thinking. “Of course, use the one in the hall.”

 

Out in the foyer, with the kitchen door slightly ajar, Melinda dug into her pocket and found the paper she’d written Phil’s number on. Her hand hesitated on the phone, but she pushed forward and pressed the numbers. She made it to six and paused. Then she pressed button number seven.

 

\--

 

After Jarvis took her into the city, Melinda walked the last couple of blocks to compose herself before seeing Phil again. She’d had to stop herself from smiling so much at the sound of his voice, but he had sounded equally excited to be talking to her. A small part of her wondered if he would be upset over her abrupt departure the last time they had met. But as she turned a corner and they saw each other for the first time since the Academy, there was only joy.

 

“Melinda!”

 

Phil waved to her, his whole body moving as he tried to catch her attention. His gestures were a little too wild, and Melinda watched as Phil danced out of the way of the coffee he was spilling. Shaking her head, Melinda crossed to where Phil was waiting. He was still grinning, despite his brush with hot coffee.  As she got closer, he offered her one last, smaller wave.

 

“Hi there,” Phil said, swallowing as they stood in front of each other for the first time in over three weeks.

 

“Hi.”

 

Melinda didn’t know whether they should hug; shake hands or whether she should simply take one of the Styrofoam cups from Phil before he burnt himself even further. Phil didn’t know either, his body moving forward and back as they tried to silently decide how best to say hello. After both of them laughed, Phil wrapped an arm around her waist. Leaning up, Melinda tucked her arms around his neck. The ache that had accompanied her since the Academy faded away; replaced by the warmth of Phil’s embrace.

 

As she pulled back, Melinda tried to not let her fingertips catch his jaw, or his mouth. But she’d missed those eyes, that smile. She’d missed those lips. _Shit._ “Is one of those for me?”

 

“Oh, oh yeah!” Phil replied, pulling away completely and placing a hot beverage in between them. “You said once you weren’t a big fan of coffee, so I got you an English tea. I hope that’s okay.”

 

Melinda nodded, reaching out to take the cup from Phil. Her thumb caught his fingers as she pulled away. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

 

They fell in step with each other, both enjoying their drinks as they walked along the street. After a few paces, Phil’s coffee dropped to his hip and his attention returned to her. “I’m really glad you called. When we last saw each other…” _When I snuck out of your room at four in the morning._ “…four weeks seemed so long away. But now you’re in D.C. and we can spend some time together before the Triskelion.”

 

It would be easier to agree with Phil, to slot their relationship into the work box. But that wasn’t even close to how she felt and it wouldn’t serve either of them well if she completely hid away. “Actually, Phil, this isn’t really about the Triskelion.”

 

“It isn’t?”

 

She shook her head. “Peggy said that I should enjoy finding my new apartment, and I figured I’d have a better day out with a friend. I didn’t call you because I wanted us to be better partners. I called because I wanted to spend the day with my friend.”

 

Phil beamed unabashedly at her. “Then I’m _really_ glad I got your call.” They continued walking, their bodies moving closer together. “I’ve been here for two weeks now and it’s been really lonely. I haven’t made any new friends. I can make my way around the city fairly easily though.”

 

Melinda almost wished she had called during her mother’s assignment. Phil could have come down, or she could have gone to D.C. to see him. Sure, it wouldn’t have helped her get any sort of clarity over her feelings and they probablywould have ended up in bed together. But at least there would have been some colour in the last few weeks.

 

“Well, I’m in town now, so we can hang out as much or as little as you want.” Melinda took a sip of her tea. Just the right amount of milk. “You’ll probably be sick of me before we even reach the Triskelion.”

 

“Not going to happen.”

 

They walked leisurely to the SHIELD apartment complex, Phil filling her in on all the things he’d been up to over the last few weeks. Melinda contributed where she could, although she stopped short of retelling her mother’s arguments. Phil didn’t push. She liked that about him. They reached the place sooner than either of them wanted, Phil holding the door open for her as they entered. Glancing around, it looked like every other apartment building in D.C. Melinda was sure that that was the point.

 

“Good morning, may I help you?” asked a tall gentleman with a lanyard around his neck. His posture spoke of the Academy, his smile was all Willet. “Are you Melinda May?”

 

She nodded. “That’s me. This is Phil, my partner. I take it you’re Agent Reynolds?”

 

“I am. If you’d both like to follow me we can get started.”

 

He led them through the foyer to an old fashioned elevator at the rear of the building. As they travelled up to the fourth floor, Reynolds informed them about the building’s history and fellow agents who had stayed within the walls. Phil nodded along eagerly, absorbing everything. Melinda focussed on examining the strength of the elevator cables. One could never be too careful.

 

“The apartment has one bedroom, one bathroom, an adequately sized kitchen and a large living space in the centre: all fully furnished,” Reynolds explained as they reached the fourth floor. “There are two laundrettes in the basement divided by floor. With floors two and four solely occupied by SHIELD agents, you can clean your belongings in peace.”

 

“Useful for washing out blood.”

 

Reynolds nodded. “And for washing any SHIELD tactical uniforms. The apartment is the third one on the left here.”

 

Phil let Melinda leave the elevator first, and they followed the agent all the way to 4C. “Rent and bills are all included, and payment is taken out of your pay cheque each month. Any long term absences, for instance any undercover operations, will be reflected in your rent. And, unlike the other floors, you have a key card rather than a key. Shall we go inside?”

 

Melinda had seen pictures of the place, but reality was _so_ muchbetter. It was a loft apartment, with a high ceiling and a large half circle window that looked out onto the city. To the right was a door to the kitchen and what looked like a closet. To the left was a staircase that led to an L shaped bedroom overlooking the apartment. The living space was spacious with plenty of light. Melinda could already start to picture herself living there.

 

“The furnishings can be changed if you have any particular requests. It’s not uncommon for agents to want the removal of the television, or the installation of gym equipment. We do have a dedicated team of SHIELD movers who can bring your belongings from your previous residence.”

 

Melinda nodded, too concerned by imagining what she could do with the place. She ran her hands over the sofa, glanced towards the small cupboard that she could have as a dark room. There weren’t many bookshelves, but that could be remedied. And she could put a punching bag right _there._

 

“I’ll leave you both to look around. Just come downstairs to the office once you’re done.”

 

As Reynolds left, Melinda felt Phil slip behind her. His hand hovered close to her waist, not quite pressing his fingers against the thin cotton of her shirt. “So, what do you think?”

 

Melinda took in a deep breath, soaking up the sunlight flooding the wooden floor. “I could do Tai Chi right here, look out over the city.” She turned; her waist sliding against Phil’s outstretched fingers. She barely noticed. “Over there, I could put a punching bag. Maybe some weights.” Phil followed her as she turned again, focussing on the bare wall to the back of the apartment. “It just needs a few more book shelves and then it’ll be perfect.”

 

“I know a great discount furniture store; we can pick some up this weekend. I’m sure they’ll go in the back of my car.”

 

Melinda stared at Phil, eyebrows raised. “I’m talking about _big_ book shelves, Phil.”

 

“Well, my car doesn’t have a back window right now so I think it’ll fit.”

 

He laughed first, Melinda leaning back against Phil’s shoulder as she joined in. She felt comfortable here, just like she did back at the Academy. Looking up at Phil, she realised that part of it was him. There were no games, no competition with Phil. They were partners rather than rivals and she relished how _secure_ that felt. Melinda wanted to embrace him once more, press her nose into the crook of his neck and breathe him in. She wanted to say that she had missed him, missed him more than she had ever thought possible.

 

Instead she patted him on the chest and pulled away, leaving a gulf between their bodies. “Come on, let’s go see the kitchen.”

 

Jarvis had advised her to look at the pipes, although her technical skills were limited to car engines and plane electrical systems. Melinda looked under the kitchen sink, trying to look for cracks or water damage. Next to her, Phil was running his hand along the worktops. “This is a really nice kitchen. I think it’s even better than mine. Want to switch?”

 

“Really?” Melinda asked, dragging her head out from under the sink. “I thought you lived solely on Pop Tarts.”

 

Phil’s mouth dropped open. “For your information, _Agent May_ , I’m a wonderful cook. I spent most of last week at the D.C. market buying fresh ingredients for the kitchen. I love cooking.”

 

Melinda was surprised by Phil’s omission, but the new information about her partner seemed to fit. He was careful, controlled. Melinda could just imagine him standing at a kitchen counter, chopping onions and tomatoes whilst listening to smooth jazz on the radio. She had never enjoyed cooking, preferring to simply eat and be done with it. If she chose this place, Phil would most likely be spending more time in her kitchen than his own.

 

She didn’t have a problem with that.

 

After the kitchen they walked up to the second floor, admiring the bedroom and the bathroom. There were a couple of loose floorboards, a couple of wedged in bricks that Melinda could use for hiding places. The bathroom seemed okay, there was no mould on the ceiling. There was a bath tub Melinda probably wouldn’t use, but the shower seemed more than adequate.

 

“Phil, could you check the pipes for me?”

 

“Sure thing,” Phil said before climbing into the bath and the closed off shower stall.

 

As Phil examined the pipes, Melinda realised it would be easy to fit two people in that shower stall. Swallowing, Melinda tried not to stare at Phil through the frosted glass. That line of thought was inappropriate with a friend, and Phil was just that. A friend. She’d never thought about Clint that way. If it was Clint in there, she’d probably use the external tap to switch the shower on.

 

“Phil, how’s the water pressure?”

 

“I don’t know, I can check!”

 

Smirking, her hand reached out towards the taps. “Thanks, Phil.”

 

The loud and childish shrieks coming from the shower told her all she needed to know. Phil jumped out immediately, his blue eyes fixed in a glare. “Not funny.”

 

“Little funny.”

 

Phil followed her closely out of the bathroom. She should have seen it coming considering Phil had a dark side to rival her own. But she was still surprised when he pushed her down onto the plastic mattress and practically threw himself down the stairs. Grumbling, Melinda picked herself up and _glared_ at her partner. Apart from checking the closet for any traces of light, they were pretty much done here. The other two places would have to be palaces to top this one.

 

“Think you could be happy here?” Phil asked from downstairs, standing in a patch of sunlight to dry out his damp clothes.

 

Melinda paused on the staircase, trying not to stare at the way the light brought out Phil’s eyes, the colour of his hair. But the light in the room was only overshadowed by her partner’s smile. “I think I could.”

 

\--

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to get out of a place _more._ ” Phil couldn’t hold back his shudder. “Please don’t tell me you’ll be living there.”

 

Melinda shook her head, making her own face as they headed away from the second apartment. The place had looked good in pictures and it was close to the river so she could run along it every morning. But inside had been a completely different story. Between mould in the bathroom, the suspicious looking stains on the bedroom carpet, and the landlord who didn’t realise Melinda could easily kick his ass, the place was a bust.

 

Outside, Melinda was glad to get some fresh air. The only redeeming quality about the afternoon had been spending some more time with Phil. They’d walked across the city rather than getting a cab, Phil showing her some of the places he’d found in the two weeks since he’d arrived. Melinda felt like she was getting to know Phil all over again.

 

“I’ve got one more place to look at…a SHIELD apartment, don’t worry.” Phil looked visibly relieved. “But that’s tomorrow morning. You still want to come?”

 

Phil’s head bounced up and down, eager in his assent. “Definitely.” He leant down to check his watch, frowning at the time. They’d spent most of the day together, and afternoon was certainly heading into evening. “Hey, do you want to check out one more apartment?”

 

Melinda’s eyes narrowed. “Which one?”

 

“Mine,” Phil said, chuckling nervously. “I mean, do you want to go back to my place? I could make us dinner; we could finish that Cary Grant movie that we started back at the Academy.” Melinda started to speak, only pausing when she realised she didn’t know what to say. Thankfully Phil came to her rescue. “Or I could order pizza, there’s beer in the fridge and I rented some movies. I have _Aliens._ Someone who looks like Garrett dies _really_ horribly.”

 

Melinda snorted, and Phil continued his own brand of nervous laughter. As much as she enjoyed Jarvis’ cooking, Phil’s proposition was awfully appealing. But then Phil himself was incredibly appealing. “Let’s do it. I just need to let Peggy know I won’t be home for dinner.”

 

They found a payphone and, after going through four security checks, Melinda told her SO she wouldn’t be back for dinner. Once that was done, Phil and Melinda headed in the direction of his apartment. The journey was quiet, neither of them wanting to discuss what had passed between them: the proposition of a home cooked meal and a film they had fallen asleep to after kissing passionately, intimately, on Phil’s dorm room bed. Melinda talked little, only answering when Phil posed a question about pizza toppings or movie choices. She was surprised to learn that both she and Phil enjoyed pineapple on their pizza. It made them both smile.

 

Eventually they made it to Phil’s apartment, a building very similar to the one from that morning. Phil lived on the third floor, and it only took a matter of minutes before they were inside.

 

“Mind the boxes; I still haven’t properly unpacked yet.”

 

Melinda skirted around the few boxes by the door. Other than those, Phil’s apartment was spotless. It was similar to his room back at the Academy: books and posters, old knick-knacks on worn shelves. Melinda followed Phil into the kitchen, observing him and the room from the doorway. When her mother was away, there were take-out menus stuck to the fridge and a refrigerator consisting of leftover pizza and bottled water. Phil’s was actually full of real food.

 

“Nice kitchen.”

 

Phil grinned, searching through his drawers for probably the sole take-out menu he possessed. “It’s great, I love it. I hated not cooking at the Academy. Then, when I’d go on leave, I was mostly staying at motels so I didn’t get to cook there either. My first night here I pigged out, made chilli. It was amazing.”

 

“Did you ever spend your first week of leave eating Cap’n Crunch?” Melinda teased, recalling an old conversation that felt like a lifetime ago. 

 

A cereal box was waved in front of her face. “ _Big time._ I put on four pounds that first week. Cereal, Pop Tarts…one time I went to a grocery store and ate three Clark Bars before I’d even left the parking lot.” Turning back to her, Phil presented the take out menu. “Pizza time.”

 

He gave Melinda the menu whilst he retrieved the beer. Phil passed her a bottle, clinking the necks as they left the kitchen. They settled on the sofa, Phil handing her a couple of throw pillows to make her more comfortable. His apartment was nice; he had a bigger television than the one at her potential apartment. She could see herself spending a lot of time here. “How about Hawaiian?”

 

“You read my mind!” Phil reached for the phone to ring their order through. “Movies are on the coffee table, _partner’s choice_. Although I would really recommend _Aliens._ I saw it at the movies with Blake and we loved it. Couldn’t stop laughing at Garrett for a week.”

 

As Phil called the pizzeria, Melinda looked through the choices. _Aliens_ was by far the best option. Once that was decided, Melinda’s gaze wandered over the rest of Phil’s apartment. Whilst his room at the Academy had been covered with posters, there were only two on his walls now: framed prints of a man and a woman. The man was handsome; he even came with his own chiselled jaw. The woman, a blonde, was incredibly beautiful. 

 

“Pizza’s on its way,” Phil said, grinning at her from his side of the sofa. “Everything okay?”

 

Melinda gestured at the prints on the wall. “Who’s the girl?” She’d never seen Phil blush so red in the entire time she’d known him. He was practically scarlet as he looked at the print of the beautiful blonde. “Phil?”

 

“ _Betty Carver._ ”

 

She barely heard him whisper the woman’s name. “Who?”

 

“Betty Carver,” Phil winced. “She’s…she was the triage nurse in the Captain America Adventure Program. Erin Edelstein is her real name. She was my…” Phil swallowed a large gulp of his beer. “She was my childhood crush. And teenage crush. In fact, she was my crush until I joined the Academy.”

 

She was pretty. Very, _very_ pretty. “So you’re into blondes, huh.”

 

“Brunettes, actually. Like-“ _You._

 

Beer in hand, Melinda stood up and went to inspect the prints they were discussing. In reality, she just wanted to place a little distance between herself and Phil. Melinda had thought they could easily slip back into being friends without discussing what had gone on at the Academy. Or maybe she had just hoped they could. To move on, though, this talk needed to happen. Taking a long swallow of her beer, Melinda turned back to Phil.

 

“I wanted to call you a lot these past few weeks,” Phil admitted, body hunched over. “I guess I was afraid if I called we’d have to talk about the last week at the Academy. The touching…the kissing.”

 

Melinda felt her body sag. She didn’t know what to tell Phil, didn’t know how to explain how she felt. Maybe, like the list, he was feeling the same confusion. Maybe, like the list, it would be okay. “It’s probably for the best; so we’re on the same page before we start next week.”

 

“Exactly.” Phil nodded, his mouth fixed in a thin line. “I’m sure you’ll agree that we need to keep things professional. Pizza and beer, sure. But everything else should be off limits.”

 

It hit Melinda like a train.

 

She hadn’t realised until Phil said those words that she didn’t want to keep things professional. Melinda didn’t want to be restricted to pizza and beer and late night runs along the Potomac. She wanted to card her fingers through his hair. She wanted to feel his stubble underneath her fingertips. She wanted to kiss him until his lips were swollen, feel bare muscle slide under the palm of her hand. She wanted to see those blue eyes glinting in the morning sunlight.

 

“I completely agree,” Melinda heard herself say. “It was fun, a lot of fun. But this is the Triskelion. So, kissing is off limits. Until Himbry makes us go undercover as a couple, of course.”

 

The corner of his mouth lifted up. “Of course. I’m glad we got that settled. We can both move on, focus on more important things. Like the Triskelion and our friendship.”

 

“Absolutely.” 

 

Melinda returned to the sofa and Phil busied himself with putting on _Aliens_. Phil didn’t look any happier than she felt, but it had been the right decision. He was a good man and he deserved someone special. Someone who didn’t run out when they woke up together, someone who didn’t spend three weeks ignoring the phone to push aside the feelings she had.

 

No matter the ache in her stomach, this was for the best.

 

\--

 

Not that long ago, Melinda would have snuck in through her bedroom window, crashed against the cool sheets and got up when the sun rose. But now, as she kicked off her shoes and placed them in the downstairs closet, Melinda didn’t want to return to her bed unnoticed. She wanted to talk to someone.

 

Luckily for her, there was a light on at the rear of the house. Slipping silently down the hall and peering through the open door, Melinda saw her SO tucked behind a stack of paperwork. She knocked gently, smiling as her mentor looked up from her work. Despite the late hour, Peggy’s smile was as bright as it always was.

 

“Melinda, come in! How was your day? Did you have fun?”

 

“Yeah, it was fine.” Melinda took the empty seat in front of Peggy’s desk, hands placed firmly on her knees. “I’ll need to go to the other viewing tomorrow, but I liked the first apartment I saw. In a couple of days I’ll be out of your way.”

 

Peggy dropped her pen to the papers she was signing, frowning at her protégé over the mountain of paperwork. “You’re not in the way, Melinda, not at all. But other than the apartments did you have fun? Did you and Mister Coulson have a good evening?”

 

“Yes, it was fine.” Peggy stared at her. “It was a great evening. We had pizza and a couple of beers and watched a couple of movies. We also had a talk, and we decided that it would be in both our best interests for things to remain professional.”

 

“I see.”

 

Melinda nodded once, her eyes intently examining the fibres of Peggy’s carpet rather than meeting the gaze of the woman herself. “This is for the best. This is exactly what I want.”

 

“Really? Are you sure this is what you want?”

 

She tried to remain composed, her fingers digging in to her kneecaps. But despite her best attempts, the world bubbled out of her chest. “ _No._ ”

 

Melinda heard, rather than saw, her mentor leave her chair and join Melinda. She felt cool hands grasp her own, saw polished red nails grasp her wrists. She swallowed, recalling the long hours of Academy training for controlling her emotions. When she finally looked up, Peggy’s face was full of worry.

 

“I have feelings for Phil,” Melinda finally admitted. “And I can’t _bear it_. I have no control over how I feel when I’m around him.” Peggy squeezed her hands, offering her a tiny shred of comfort. “I don’t like feeling this way. Is there something you can teach me, some extension of my training so I can shut this off? So that I have some control over this?”

 

Peggy’s hand cradled her cheek. “Oh Melinda, even if I could I wouldn’t.”

 

That would have been too easy. Exhausted, Melinda sagged against the chair. She wanted to go back to how things used to be. But there was no returning now, not after accepting that she had feelings for Phil. Her _partner,_ of all people. What a damn cliché.

 

“I can’t imagine how disappointed you must be. You recruit me to SHIELD, help me through my training and before I’ve even started I’ve fallen for my partner.” Melinda sighed. “I’m so sorry, Peggy. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

 

“No, _I’m_ sorry. I should have had this conversation a long time ago.” Peggy pulled away, giving Melinda space to breath. “You are more than your badge; you are more than your training, Melinda. It’s okay to feel, to want, to _love_. You’ll know in time whether these are feelings you can live with, or whether they’re feelings you can’t live without. But, for now, I suggest you get some sleep.”

 

Melinda nodded. Crashing in her bed was a much better prospect than worrying over Phil. Stifling a yawn, Melinda squeezed her SO’s hand one final time before heading for the door. In a few hours she would be seeing Phil again and she needed to be better composed. She wasn’t some doe eyed school girl in love with her first crush. She was a SHIELD agent, and she would find a way to handle this.

 

“Oh, and Melinda?” She turned back. “There is nothing you could do, or say, or feel that would _ever_ make me disappointed in you. Are we clear?”

 

“Yes ma’am.”

 

If only everything could be so simple.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Agents of SHIELD or any of its characters, or settings - all belongs to Marvel and ABC.
> 
> I am so, so excited about posting this chapter. It's ridiculously long but I love it, and I hope you all love it too. Thank you to everyone who commented on all my fic teasers, I hope your enthusiasm is rewarded. And a massive thank you to melinda-qiaolian, who has been invaluable in listening to my writing commentary these past two weeks. You are a star. I hope you all enjoy!

Melinda always followed the same, simple routine in the mornings: up at five, then Tai Chi, followed by a hot shower and breakfast. She was used to working through her routine outside, seeing other cadets sprint and pace. But now she stood alone; bathed in sunlight as she moved like water. The shower was quiet: no loud curses as soap was dropped or the sounds of another ten young women brushing their teeth. Breakfast was spent cross legged on her floor, slowly chewing a slice of toast whilst reading the morning paper.

 

Although she’d only moved in a couple of days ago, Melinda thoroughly enjoyed the new changes to her routine.

 

But on the morning of the second, Melinda’s first day at the Triskelion, she found she could not so easily return to the safety of her morning routine. Her footing was wonky, her arms unable to move in tandem with her body. Cursing, Melinda gave up and tried another method of focussing her body before her first day. Taping up her hands, Melinda started with the bag.

 

One. One, two.

 

She’d just moved onto stomach crunches when her phone rang. Leaning over, Melinda pressed the speakerphone button. “This is May.”

 

“ _You sound out of breath, did I interrupt something?”_

_Maria._ Melinda had been missing her friend these past few weeks. “Morning exercises. It’s good to hear from you, did you get my messages?”

 

Melinda had tried leaving a number of messages for her friend over the past four weeks but hadn’t heard anything back. But whilst Melinda had been stuck in Pennsylvania with her mother, Maria had been living it up in Greece. _“I did, but there were a lot of distractions in Europe. It was worth it, though. I started my first shift at the Cube last night and it was intense. Amazing, but intense.”_

“Next time you’re in the States, look me up and I’ll buy you a couple of drinks. We can swap stories.” Melinda finished her second set of crunches and looked at her clock. “It must be late where you are.”

 

 _“It is; I’m half asleep as I’m calling you. But I wanted to wish you good luck for your first day at the big house._ ” A pause. Melinda started stretching out her body. _“How is Coulson, anyway? Did you throw out the rulebook?”_

Melinda paused, arm locked behind her head as she halted her stretching. A long distance telephone call was not the place for Melinda to talk about her partner. A long night, a bar, and three rounds of tequila slammers was a _much_ better place. As she tried to design a response that her friend wouldn’t see through, there was a knock at the door. _Saved by the bell._ “That’s the door, hold on I’ll be right back.”

 

Grabbing a sports bottle on the way to the door, Melinda wondered who would be calling so early. Maybe it was Peggy, wanting to have a talk before her first day; or maybe even Jarvis bringing pastries. Instead it was Phil on her doorstep, wearing a well-fitting suit and tie, and carrying a large paper bag in one hand.

 

“Morning! I know we hadn’t talked about driving in together or anything, but I thought maybe we could have breakfast.” He held up the paper bag. “I brought bagels, cream cheese. And fresh orange juice, because I drank the last of yours yesterday. Is it okay if I come in?”

 

Melinda nodded, opening the door wide enough for Phil to step over the threshold. She’d never seen him in a suit and tie before, all buttoned and laced. He looked... _nice._ Normally Melinda would attribute her morning workout as the reason why she felt so hot and bothered, but Phil looked incredibly… _sexy_.

 

“You’re wearing a suit,” Melinda said, swallowing as she closed the door behind them. Just the two of them: Melinda all hot and sweaty, Phil all neat and proper. “It’s very…” Phil turned back, a half-smile on his mouth as he waited for the rest of her compliment. “…professional.”

 

“ _Professional? Seriously, that’s the best you can do?”_

_Shit._ She’d forgotten about Maria. She turned to Phil. “I’m so sorry.” Racing over to the other side of her apartment, Melinda took Maria off speakerphone and picked up the receiver. “I have to go, Maria, but I’ll call you later in the week?”

 

_“Yeah, of course! I completely understand if you want to enjoy some stress relief sex with your very ‘professional’ looking partner.”_

Melinda rolled her eyes. “I hate you. Keep safe.”

 

“ _Keep safe._ ”

 

As Melinda heard the other line click dead, she put the phone down. She wondered how much of their conversation Phil had heard, but her partner didn’t give anything away. He waited until she joined him by the couch he leant against. They’d rearranged that together, Phil huffing and puffing as they tried to push it into a better position. The shelves they’d picked up together, Phil stacking the few books she had brought whilst she sanded the others down. Phil felt as much a part of her apartment as the rest of it.

 

“Thank you for bringing breakfast,” Melinda said, breaking the awkward pause after the conclusion of Maria’s phone call. She gestured to the bag by his side. “Is that from the deli near your place?”

 

They’d had lunch their last week after they’d spent a morning as tourists. They’d sat outside the White House and marked security personnel, both of them trying to see who could come up with the most outlandish point of entry. She’d been so focussed on Phil she barely remembered the game, or the deli.

 

“That’s the one. I was gonna eat at home, but then I remembered about the juice. So I thought I should come over.” He laughed nervously. “Bring more juice.”

 

Melinda smiled, trying to look anywhere but directly into Phi’s eyes. She had a feeling if she got swept up in them he’d be able to see everything. How badly she wanted to tackle him to her couch, unbutton his shirt and kiss his chest. How much she wanted to feel him touch her and hold her and help the lump of nerves in her stomach disappear. So instead she focussed on the brown paper bag, condensation from the juice puckering the paper. It reminded her of the sweat she could feel clinging to her skin.

 

Suddenly overwhelmed with images of Phil licking her neck, Melinda realised she needed to get clean and _quickly._ “Are you okay sorting breakfast? I need to shower, get changed.” 

 

Phil nodded, his own gaze focussing just to the left of her and to the staircase that was already dented. “Breakfast will be ready by the time you’re done.”

 

Melinda nodded once, turning quickly on her heel to escape up the stairs.  As she turned, Phil’s hand shot out and grabbed hers. It was clammy, whether from nerves or the bag he was holding. But even that slight touch was enough to ease the sensation in her stomach. His smile was a bonus, soothing and calming her. Melinda finally looked into Phil’s eyes, the blue orbs betraying nerves similar to hers. Phil gave her hand an extra squeeze, words unsaid but still hanging between them. _We’ll be okay. We have each other._

 

They gently eased out of the other’s grip, Phil automatically moving to the kitchen and Melinda retreating to the stairs. As she reached the top, Melinda glanced back. Phil moved effortlessly around her kitchen, easily finding knives and breadboards, plates and glasses. She could have survived on just one of everything, but she had two just for Phil. He was already so entwined in her life. But she wanted more.

 

\--

 

“You know, we could have taken my bike.”

 

Phil turned from the road to throw a disbelieving stare in her direction. “Your bike, _really_? There is no way I am _ever_ getting on that death trap.”

 

Stuck in the passenger seat of Phil’s beat up corvette, Melinda frowned. She loved being on her bike: enjoyed the feel of the wind and the rush of the air as she drove. It was certainly a lot safer than Phil’s car, of which two windows and the air conditioning were broken. At least he had a back window now. As for her bike, she’d get Phil on it one day. She just needed to be more persuasive.

 

“You know, Captain America had a motorcycle.”

 

It was a cheap shot, but she enjoyed watching Phil’s fingers flex on the wheel and the corner of his mouth twitch. “Captain Rogers was a man infused with a super soldier serum that allowed him great strength and rapid healing abilities. As incredible as you are, Melinda, you have neither.”

 

Point taken. Still, as they took the next exit that would take them to the Triskelion, Melinda couldn’t help but wish she was driving. She’d excelled so well in Advanced Driving at the Academy that they’d let her teach the course to freshmen. Without being behind the wheel, her hands were unoccupied and kept itching to wrap around Phil’s tie. Frustrated, Melinda was on the verge of offering to drive. But, when she opened her mouth, Melinda realised she couldn’t speak.

 

The Triskelion towered over the D.C. skyline, standing tall and gleaming in the early morning sunlight. In the few days since she’d arrived in D.C, Melinda had run every morning along the Potomac just to catch a glimpse of SHIELD headquarters. But this was different. The Triskelion seemed to take up the entire windshield, blocking out everything but the tiniest ray of sunlight.

 

“ _Wow,_ ” Phil whispered beside her, his jaw slack as he took in SHIELD Headquarters in all its glory. “It’s huge.”

 

Melinda nodded, feeling her stomach churn as she saw just how grand the Triskelion was. Over forty floors and countless basement levels. It was home to some of the most secure information in the world, operating missions and developing technology that some countries wouldn’t even be able to comprehend. She’d felt safe at the Academy, at home within its walls and secure in knowing most of its secrets. It would probably take her a lifetime just to get the security clearance for the schematics.

 

There were three checkpoints between them and the Triskelion, each with armed guards as they confirmed their registration, identification and a retinal scan. Each time Melinda showed her badge, she felt a little shiver of excitement. This was it. _They were finally here._

 

In the parking garage, Phil took three attempts to reverse his corvette in between two sleek, black Lincolns. All around them, a stream of agents left their cars; briefcases and files in hand as they walked to the elevator at the end of the parking garage. They all wore the same suit, the same pin on their lapels. They looked like every agent that had ever come to visit the Academy, telling them just how _incredible_ things would be once they got their badge. They had made it sound so simple.

 

Melinda and Phil joined the next batch of agents heading for the elevator. There wasn’t any music, just the hum of the shaft sending them upwards. Phil was beaming, but she could tell he was nervous. His hands were clamped in front of him, fingers curled into a ball. Melinda knew how he felt. As the elevator lurched to a stop, so did her stomach.

 

“ _Now approaching Atrium.”_

As the doors slid open, Melinda was pushed out with Phil and the rest of the occupants. But whilst her new colleagues headed for doors and escalators and offices; Melinda just stood, rooted to the floor. It was bigger, much grander inside than she had ever imagined. Towering high above the other government buildings in the D.C. area, the Triskelion was designed to be a symbol. Nothing said that more than the giant SHIELD emblem standing tall in the centre of the atrium, surrounded by a halo of sunlight.

 

Melinda traced the edges of the SHIELD pin she’d pressed into the collar of her leather jacket that morning. She was part of this now. Part of SHIELD. “I don’t think I’d ever get tired of looking at that.”

 

Beside her, Phil’s hands had migrated to his pockets. “Why would you? God, it’s incredible!”

 

They continued to stare, absorbing in all the sights and sounds of their first day at the Triskelion. A few of their fellow agents stood nearby, sniggering as they watched them gasp and gape. Agents as young as her and Phil were a rarity; she should have expected that there would be some interest. But Phil, if he didn’t stare at the Triskelion like a tourist in Times Square, would fit right in. With his well-tailored suit and SHIELD pin attached to his tie, he looked every part a SHIELD agent.

 

As she stared long and hard at the SHIELD emblem, Melinda was starting to feel like an imposter.

 

\--

 

They were assigned to SHIELD Special Operations, one of the largest departments within the Triskelion. Agents in that department worked high profile undercover operations, viable threats to national security when a strike team wasn’t necessary, and there was a _rumour_ that they also evaluated the odd subject on the Index. Melinda couldn’t imagine a better department for their first assignment. Like the Triskelion, _every_ agent at the Academy talked about Special Operations. But she and Phil were the lucky ones who had been assigned there.

 

As they arrived on the twenty-first floor, home to Special Operations, there was an agent waiting. She looked up, dropping the fingers holding the clock face of her watch, and smiled. “Agent May, Agent Coulson. I’m Agent Barrett. If you’d like to follow me?”

 

Phil and Melinda exchanged nervous smiles, but followed Barrett as asked. They kept close to her as she weaved her way through the corridors of Special Operations. Nothing was on show: not an open bullpen, not even a single window showing into an office. After a brief walk they stopped at one. Barrett slid the key card into the lock, opening the door for them.

 

“This is your office for as long as you’re with us. As you’re only a two person team, it’s not as big as some of other suites.” Barrett let go of the handle, letting them step into their new office. “Agent Himbry is waiting in his office for your first briefing. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

 

Melinda nodded, peering through the door to see inside. It wasa _nice_ office. A large glass window with a good view of the Potomac dominated one wall. There was a reasonable conference table in the centre with two desktop computers and a whiteboard that would be useful for planning purposes. There was even a small tower of SHIELD water bottles.

 

“So, where is Himbry’s office?” Melinda turned back, but Barrett was already gone. _So much for the tour_. Phil slipped into the office, running his fingers along the wood of the table. “Not bad, huh?”

 

“This is great!” Phil patted one of the computers. “ _We have an office_.”

 

Melinda leant against the doorway, happy to just watch her partner fawn over their new office. He was so cute like this. She couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed as he smiled at her, couldn’t help but grin as he did. Melinda couldn’t help but feel her stomach lurch again as he took her hands within his.

 

“This is going to be amazing.” Phil took a deep, contented sigh. “Come on, let’s go find Himbry. Think he’ll assign us an operation today?”

 

“I hope so.”

 

They discussed all the possible operations they could be sent on as they tried to navigate their way around the three floors that took up Special Operations. But after a couple of unexpected detours, they finally found the right floor. Melinda felt her nerves return as they made the short walk from the right stairwell to Himbry’s office. Beside her, she heard Phil swallow. He removed his hand from his pants pocket and knocked once, twice on Himbry’s door.

 

“Come in.”

 

Marcus Himbry was one of the first agents recruited after the SSR became SHIELD. Peggy rarely discussed business with her, but when she did most of the stories involved Himbry and his department. He was every bit the imposing figure Melinda had imagined. He sat behind his desk, printing his signature onto a lengthy stack of paperwork. He didn’t even look up as he spoke. 

 

“Agent May, Agent Coulson, I presume?” They both nodded. “Good, I was wondering when you two would get here.”

 

“We were caught up in the atrium, sir,” Melinda lied, not wanting to tell him that they had got lost on their first day. But she noticed immediately the crease above Himbry’s nose at her remark. He didn’t like to be contradicted.

 

Pushing the papers in front of him to one side, Himbry removed a single brown envelope from another pile on his desk. “You two are the only Level One agents in my department, everyone else is Level Three or above. You do not have clearance to access any other room apart from your office on the twenty-first floor. Are we clear?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Melinda frowned. “Yes, sir.”

 

Himbry sat with a straight back; grey eyes narrowing as he tried to pick up even the slightest detail from their posture, their dress. Satisfied by what he saw, he tented his fingers in front of him and leant forward. “Your responsibilities in this office will be reflective of your security level. Most of the operations you will be sent on will be surveillance or retrieval. There is to be no personal missions, no ‘searching for the truth’ in your off hours. Are we clear?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

The frown deepened. She didn’t like where this was heading. “Yes, sir.”

 

“Good.” Himbry slid the brown envelope towards them. “In that envelope are the key cards to your office two floors down. Get familiar with the computer system, the operational guidelines, the location of the archives, administration. Dismissed.”

 

That was it. No ‘welcome aboard’, not even the slightest mention of sending them on an operation. Beside her, Melinda could see Phil deflate. For all their talk, all their hopes had just been dashed. But Melinda wasn’t ready to be dismissed just yet. She hadn’t signed on to SHIELD to spend her first day finding where the water coolers were.

 

Melinda took a deep breath, understanding that this would not improve her relationship with Himbry. But she had to try. “Sir, is there anything more useful we could be doing? Like preparing for an operation?”

 

Beside her, Phil winced. Despite his disappointment, Melinda knew he never would have questioned orders. Melinda had no such qualms. It was a pity Himbry disagreed. “You are a Level One agent, May. Currently we have no working operations at your security level. But if you’re so desperate for something to do, why don’t you summarise the operational guidelines manual for me? All five hundred pages of it. _Dismissed._ ”

 

Phil nodded, his shiny black shoes already taking a step closer to the door. “Thank you, sir.”

 

She heard the door close, her partner waiting for her on the other side. But Melinda wasn’t ready to go just yet. She stood her ground, the older agent staring back. “Do you have trouble with the word ‘dismissed’, Agent May?”

 

“No. I understand the concept. What I have trouble with is spending my first day here picking out photographs for my desk.”

 

Himbry’s mouth was a thin line, his lips practically sucked back into his face. His eyebrows were knotted, his knuckles white. There was a good chance this wasn’t going to end well for her. “This department has been responsible for some of the most high profile operations SHIELD has ever worked. Level One agents are _rarely_ assigned here. Especially not Academy cadets who are barely out of _diapers_. Consider yourself lucky, May, and get out.”

 

“With all due respect, sir, if you don’t want us I’m sure there’s plenty of CO’s who do. Agent Coulson is incredibly skilled in combat, interrogation and analysis. My skills in surveillance, hand to hand, and tactical planning were almost unparalleled at the Academy.” Melinda simply shrugged. “This is the Triskelion, sir. I don’t want a babysitter. I want to be out in the field.”

 

Melinda considered the slight tilt of his head a win. Himbry didn’t say a single word as he slid a manila envelope out from a stack of files and passed it across the table. “Dismissed, Agent May.”

 

She took the envelope solemnly, not relishing the victory quite as much as she thought she would. Yes, they had an operation, and _yes,_ they wouldn’t be sitting in their new office trying to find solitaire on their computers. But Melinda felt disheartened by the lengths she had had to go to just to get a single envelope. If Himbry didn’t want her, what exactly was she doing here?

 

\--

 

“You’re amazing, you know that right?”

 

“Yeah, I guess.”

 

The envelope dangled from her fingers, the operation she had practically _begged_ to be allowed on inside. Phil had been so excited when she’d showed him the envelope, his blue eyes lighting up at the prospect of being out in the field. She only wished she could feel that excitement, or even be stricken with the nerves that had hounded her over the last few days. Instead she was just left with the dull ache of disappointment.

 

“Hey,” Phil nudged her shoulder, jogging her out of her mood. “You were _incredible_ in there. Not backing down, standing up to Himbry. We’ve only been here an hour…”

 

“…And I’ve already pissed off our CO?” Considering her track record with authority figures, she could have made a lot of money on how long that would have taken. Thinking about Clint making wagers on how long it would take her to get court-martialled, Melinda smiled. It continued to grow, encouraged by every one of Phil’s gentle nudges. “I guess I did good.”

 

Phil took the envelope from her fingers, holding it between them. “ _This_ is all because of you. We’re heading out on our first operation because you fought for us.”

 

“It’s what good partners do.” Melinda nudged Phil’s shoulder, returning the tease. “You would have done the same for me, Phil.”

 

He nodded. “Absolutely. Just maybe not on our first day.”

 

They laughed; jostling each other until they were so close Melinda could see the flecks of gold in his eyes. His mouth looked so inviting, his crooked smile so eager. She’d been so good at keeping herself in check the last week, stopping herself from reaching up and kissing those lips of his. They were celebrating, what would a little kiss hurt?

 

But Phil was not her boyfriend, or even her lover. He was her partner, her very… _professional_ partner. This was not a prelude to a kiss. This was a friend picking the other one up. “Thank you, Phil. I couldn’t imagine being here with anyone but you. I wouldn’t want to be.”

 

“Believe me, the feeling is entirely mutual.”

 

The elevator they called for arrived, and Phil reluctantly stepped away. A couple of agents stepped off, neither of them looking as good in their suits as Phil. Her partner looked _too_ good. Thoughts of running her hands inside his jacket, slowly unbuttoning his shirt were overwhelming. Hopefully whatever was in that envelope would be enough to keep her mind on the job for the rest of the day. She’d come too close to crossing the line earlier. She would toe it, but not cross it. 

 

Luckily, the elevator wasn’t empty for their ride down. Unluckily, the only other person on the elevator was the only other person who knew how she felt about Phil. “Good morning, Director.”

 

Peggy Carter, like Phil, would easily fit in with the bureaucrats and politicians on Capitol Hill. Her suit was tailored, her make up demure. But she was carrying a pistol on her right side and a glint in her left eye. Thankfully all she had for Melinda was a smile. “Good morning, Agent May. Agent Coulson. Enjoying your first day?”

 

“So far. Still early yet.”

 

Melinda took up the empty space on Peggy’s right. Her partner, however, was still hovering in the corridor. He waited until the doors started to close before jumping on; taking up position on Peggy’s left. Phil was nervous, his hands cupped in front of his suit as he rocked back on his heels. Melinda kept watching him, resisting the smirk she felt forming as Phil kept glancing between the two women. They went down a few floors in silence before Peggy turned to her partner. She’d never seen Phil look so pale before.

 

“Agent Coulson, I’m glad to see that _someone_ has dressed professionally for your first day at the Triskelion.” Not exactly what she needed to hear when she was already feeling self-conscious about her outfit choice. But Phil _did_ look good. “Agent Fury speaks very highly of you.”

 

“Thank you, ma’am. Agent Fury and Melinda… _Agent May_ speaks very highly of you also.” Phil reached up and rested his fingers against his throat, helping himself to swallow. “We learnt about the history of the SSR at the Academy. I knew a lot about the involvement of the SSR in the Second World War, but the Leviathan case from New York was really fascinating.”

 

Peggy smiled. “Well, Agent Coulson, you shall have to come over to dinner one Sunday with Melinda and I’ll tell you the stories first-hand. There’s quite a lot of detail left out of the reports.”

 

Phil looked like all his Christmases had come early. “I would _love_ that.” Her partner took a moment to collect himself. “That is, if Melinda doesn’t mind me tagging along?”

 

Over the last week they’d talked a great deal. In dribs and drabs, odd fragments of conversation, Melinda had spilled just enough about her relationship with Peggy for Phil to know how much she treasured her time with her SO. She loved that he cared, loved that he worried. She loved…”Not at all.”

 

“Well that’s settled, this Sunday it is.” Peggy’s smile widened as she caught sight of the envelope in Phil’s hand. “Is Agent Himbry sending you out on an operation already?”

 

Phil nodded eagerly. “Yes ma’am. Melinda beat him down, got him to assign us a mission. We’re both really excited to be getting out in the field”

 

“Hmm.” Peggy checked her watch. “I had you challenging Agent Himbry before ten. I guess Mister Jarvis owes me twenty dollars.”

 

Melinda snorted first, shaking her head at her SO. Phil and Peggy joined in, any remaining tension replaced by laughter. The rest of the short journey down was filled by Peggy giving them a couple of tips for the field, but mostly her SO interrogating Phil about his preference for dinner and wine. Melinda felt happier upon seeing her mentor, felt more like she belonged. It was such a shame when the elevator doors slid open onto the atrium. 

 

But before they could leave, Peggy’s hand was resting on Phil’s shoulder. “Agent Coulson, would you mind if I had a brief word with Melinda?”

 

He looked from Peggy’s face to her nails pressed into the fabric of his jacket. “No, ma’am. I’ll wait for you by the car, Agent May.”

 

Phil was a master of the professional. It seemed so easy for him to adjust his tie and step off the elevator, giving a single nod before leaving them to it. He had turned up that morning looking every inch the respectable SHIELD Agent whilst she still dressed like a cadet at the Academy. Maybe that was why Phil found it so easy to keep their relationship friendly yet professional. They’d spent every day together since she’d arrived and he hadn’t slipped. No near kisses, no unfortunate turns of phrase. Melinda was jealous of the control he had. 

 

“I take it things are still the same? With Agent Coulson, I mean?”

 

Turning to her mentor, Melinda saw nothing but sympathy. So she just nodded, not bothering to lie. Peggy would see straight through it anyway. “The more time I spend with him, the more I want. I thought maybe the feelings would ease but they don’t. If anything, they just get stronger. Howam I supposed to move on when they just get stronger?”

 

“Love is a very complicated emotion.”

 

She threw a disbelieving look at her mentor, not liking the way Peggy simply smirked in reply. “It’s not love. I just…can’t stop thinking about him. I want to be with him all the time. Its infatuation and it’ll fade. Eventually.” No one in the elevator believed that. “Anyway, Phil’s made it perfectly clear he doesn’t feel the same.”

 

There was a sigh from the woman beside her. Peggy rested her hand atop her shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Melinda, you are one of the finest agents we’ve ever trained. You know how to hide your emotions, to keep them at bay and deal with them in private. Whilst Agent Coulson is well trained, he’s rather lacking in those abilities. Watch how he looks at you. That is not the face of a man who feels nothing for you.”

 

“He said he wants to keep things professional.”

 

Peggy just shrugged. “Maybe Agent Coulson is dealing with the same thing you are, struggling with feelings he doesn’t think you reciprocate. Your partner is the person you trust everything with. Trust him with this.”

 

Stepping off the elevator, saying goodbye to Peggy was all a blur. She was stuck inside her own head, replaying old thoughts and memories like a needle stuck in the groove of a record. Phil was attracted to her; he’d made that clear a number of times. But actual _feelings…_ she’d been so concerned with sorting and running from her own that she had never considered whether Phil had _feelings_ for her. _Whether he loved her_.

 

Peggy was right. It was time to stop running. Today she was going to trust Phil with her feelings. She only hoped that trust wasn’t misplaced.

 

\--

 

Melinda spent the journey from the Triskelion to the address in the envelope watching Phil constantly, waiting to see _exactly_ how he looked at her. The smiles all seemed the same, odd glances in her direction were nothing out of the ordinary. Melinda, quite frankly, couldn’t see what Peggy was talking about. But maybe that was because, unlike her, nothing had changed for Phil. Maybe he had been staring at her this way all along.

 

“You okay?” Phil asked as he turned into a side street. “You’ve been quiet. Is it Himbry still?”

 

Melinda shook her head. “No. I’ve just got something else on my mind and I’m not sure how to deal with it.”

 

“Well, we’ve got all day in the car…” Phil shrugged from the driver’s seat. “How about we talk about it and I can help you sort out where your mind is?”

 

“God I hope so.”

 

Himbry had sent them on a surveillance operation, observing an address in the city to watch for any unusual activity. Everything they needed – or was cleared – to know was in the envelope. Their target’s name was Edward Hughes, a forty-seven year old architect whose finances were taking a turn for the worse. They weren’t cleared to know how Hughes had wound up on SHIELD’s radar, but an architect didn’t sound very interesting. They would probably have plenty of time for Melinda to finally explain how she felt.

 

“Here we go,” Phil said, pulling into the street across from Hughes’ studio. He killed the engine, immediately reaching into his pocket for his wallet. “Okay, I’m going to go get us some coffee. Are you okay taking the first watch?”

 

“Sure. Just hurry back.”

 

His smile seemed the same as it always was: bright, powerful, had the ability to render her speechless. Sitting alone in the car, Melinda tried to focus on her work. She pulled out a notepad, wrote down a few notes on the people walking past. It didn’t take her long to get distracted by thoughts of Phil. How was she going to tell him? Bluntly, to the point? Eloquently, perhaps somewhere a little grander than the front seat of Phil’s old corvette? Melinda was used to knowing the steps, knowing how to proceed. This was completely out of her depth.

 

Thankfully her partner quickly returned, bearing hot drinks. Phil would know what to do. She had to start trusting him with this. “Thanks, Phil.”

 

“You’re welcome!” Phil leant back against his seat, taking a long drag of his coffee. “Isn’t this fun? Our first proper stakeout! We can play games; get takeout from a vender down the street. I’ve always wanted to go on a stakeout.”

 

Melinda was glad Phil was having fun. Stationary surveillance had never been a favourite of hers. She preferred tailing someone, keeping a watchful eye in motion. Sitting in Coulson’s car without air conditioning in the middle of summer was not exactly what she had had in mind when she had challenged Himbry. Still, they were out in the field. That had to count for something.

 

“So, what do you think is in the briefcase?” The briefcase had been mentioned several times in the document accompanying the photograph. Melinda had a sneaking suspicion that that was their real target. “Do you think its documents, maybe a formula or weapon specifications? Maybe it’s blackmail material, covert reports.”

 

Melinda took a moment to think about it. “Schematics for something important, building security. Someone’s paid him off to gain access to a building he designed.”

 

“Ooooh, good one.” Melinda had played Guess the Mission at the Academy, and had nearly always won. Phil was a worthy opponent, his analytical skills proving incredibly useful in thinking up crazy points of entry, world domination plans or simply who a person really was. “I think he’s in the witness protection program, maybe a former CIA Agent who saw too much.”

 

She snorted. “I should go in, ask him if he knows my mother.”

 

Beside her, Phil laughed. She loved making him laugh. He was one of the few people who could do the same to her. “Do you ever wonder whether you’ll run into your mother on a mission?”

 

That was a scary thought, but it was one Melinda had often considered. She didn’t know what type of agent her mother was, but she imagined it was something akin to her own line of work. They had different training, and Melinda was certainly spryer than her mother. But she wouldn’t put money on who would win if they came to blows during an operation. “I hope not.”

 

Phil didn’t reply, just gave her a soft smile like he could read her mind. With Hughes not doing anything and the conversation taking a momentary lull, this was the perfect opportunity to _talk_. She didn’t know how to start, but hopefully once she began things would become easier. After taking a sip of her tea, Melinda turned around and dedicated her full attention to Phil.

 

“Phil, the thing on my mind…” _How the hell was she going to start this?_

 

“Yeah? What’s up?” Phil said, loosening the tie around his neck. “God, it’s so hot in here.”

 

Melinda rolled her eyes. She’d lost her jacket within the first ten minutes of being in the car, but Phil was still trussed up in his suit. “It’s the middle of summer and there’s no air conditioning in your damn car. _Of course_ it’s hot.”

 

“Fine,” Phil groaned, tugging at his jacket and tossing it across the back seat. “But we’re still not taking your bike.”

 

He kept his tie, leaving him in a white shirt that showed off the definition in his arms. Phil looked like any other young man in the city, maybe a fresh faced attorney or a banker heading off to play with the stock market. But, like Peggy, appearances were deceptive. There was strength and skill behind every movement. Even if it was just twisting the knobs of his car trying to get the AC to work.

 

“So, you were saying?” Phil asked, straightening in the driver’s seat. “What’s on your mind?”

 

“Phil, there’s something I need to tell you. I’ve been thinking about you.”

 

Her partner brightened, a smile similar to the one that morning when she’d been on the verge of telling him how _amazing_ he looked in that suit. It was a smile that gave her hope. “You’ve been thinking about me?”

 

“No! I mean, yes…” This was harder than she thought. She was used to her actions speaking for themselves, not having to rely on her words to explain how she felt. When she'd spent so long denying those feelings it was even worse. “I mean, I’ve been thinking about things, and I need…”

 

Moving closer to Phil, trying to explain to him just how _much_ she felt, led to her tea coming loose from Phil’s cup holder and spilling over the insides of Phil’s car. _And_ Phil. Cursing, Melinda reached for something in the glove compartment to help. Phil, hissing at his crotch, dunked a cold bottle of water over his lap. This wasn’t her. She was always in control, always knew exactly how to handle herself. But until this was all out in the open, Melinda didn’t think her control would return.

 

“I’m sorry, Phil, I didn’t mean to.”

 

“Of course you didn’t, it was an accident.” He was still smiling at her. “I think we’re both on edge today, nervous about starting at the Triskelion. There’s a coffee shop just down the street, I’m gonna go dry off my pants. How about I bring back doughnuts? I think the sugar will take the edge off.”

 

Melinda smiled; mouth thin. “Sure.”

 

Phil grabbed his wallet once more, gingerly escaping out of the driver’s side door. Melinda watched her partner go, slinking down in her seat. Maybe in the middle of an operation wasn’t the best time to do this. Maybe she just needed a little more time to decide what she was going to say. Grabbing the binoculars and the notepad, Melinda returned to watching Hughes across the street. Gentle surveillance, maybe even a timed entry to retrieve information…those things Melinda could do in her sleep. Something personal, something as intimate as telling the man she adored the extent of her feelings was something her years at the Academy had never prepared her for.

 

\--

 

Hughes was the most incredibly boring subject Melinda had ever observed. He did nothing. They made notes, took down licence plate details. More often than not they played Guess the Mission, or used the pack of cards Phil had brought to play poker. As the daylight slowly faded between the cracks of the buildings, Melinda felt her eyes close shut. Her nerves over the Triskelion, the lack of stimulation with Hughes, and the prospect of telling Phil, was _exhausting._

 

When Melinda stirred, it took her a few moments to realise she was in Phil’s car. The split leather behind her back and the slight whisper of a breeze from the broken window reminded her. Looking to her left, Melinda caught Phil watching her. His eyes were soft, his smile slight as he realised she was awake. Too many hours in a car had resulted in a tieless, scruffy Phil Coulson. But although the temperature had dropped as night had fallen, Phil wasn’t wearing his jacket. Instead, it was draped over her.

 

“You looked cold.”

 

Melinda smiled, feeling her cheeks warm from the simple act of generosity. Pulling the jacket further up her body, Melinda sucked in a breath of the cologne she could smell on the fabric. She felt warm, content. Really they should be at home, unwinding from their first day. Or at least back at the Triskelion to give their report. Instead they were still in Phil’s car. “Is Hughes _still_ in his office?”

 

Phil nodded, passing Melinda the binoculars. Peering through, Hughes was still tinkering with schematics and plans. “He’s still in there. He made a call a couple of hours ago; I think it was to his wife. Probably to explain he’d be home late. Surprised you slept so long.”

 

“Didn’t get much sleep last night.”

 

Phil held up his sixth takeaway cup of coffee in comradery. “Me either. Hopefully this guy will go home soon so we can. The barista switched me to decaf.”

 

Melinda laughed weakly, reaching for her own cup. It was cold, weak, but it was enough to drive the sandpaper taste out of her mouth. “Has that car come around again?”

 

Phil passed her the notepad where he’d scribbled another time against the car’s number plate. Hughes had done nothing much all day, gone out to the deli just along the street for a turkey sub [Phil had waited behind him in line] and then retreated to his office. The only thing out of the ordinary was the car. Small vehicle, female driver, passed by every couple of hours. Maybe when they got back to the Triskelion they could get someone to run the plates.  It was probably nothing. But at least Melinda wouldn’t feel that their entire day had been a waste.

 

“I’ll take the next watch, you get some sleep,” Melinda offered. “Who knows how long we’re going to be stuck here.”

 

Phil smiled gratefully, dropping his empty coffee cup back to the holder. “Thanks, Melinda. I officially hate stakeouts.”

 

“They’re not as much fun when there’s nothing to do. No long streets to tail him without being seen, no phone calls to tap into. No moments where the subject catches on and there’s a quick scuffle with a gun.” Melinda looked through the binoculars again. Hughes was _still_ working. “Maybe next time.”

 

With Melinda on watch, she carefully removed Phil’s jacket from her lap. She took care to fold it and hand it back to her partner, who took it with a smile. Phil deserved some rest, they both did. She watched as her partner threw his jacket over him, pushing the collar to his neck as he rested his head against the window. Before he closed his eyes, he gave her one last, lingering smile. Melinda felt like that was enough to keep her warm despite the chill in the car.

 

Taking control of the binoculars, Melinda aimed them at Hughes’ office. Working, working, taking a sip of cold coffee, working. Packing, _packing, coat…_ ”Phil…” Her partner murmured, adjusting his jacket around his shoulders. She pushed his shoulder, trying to get his attention. “Phil, I think Hughes is leaving.”

 

His blue eyes snapped open, her partner discarding his jacket to meet her in the middle of the car. There was a scramble over the binoculars but eventually Phil was looking through them and grinning. “Oh thank _god._ He’s some other team’s problem now.”

 

There was a collective sigh of triumph as Hughes _finally_ left his office. Phil threw his fist in the air; Melinda just felt her body relax. They’d made it through their first mission. All that was left was an initial report, the paperwork, and then onto the next one.

 

Putting the binoculars down, Melinda turned to Phil. Despite the slight buzz of a body desperate for sleep. Melinda felt elated. She could see the same emotions in Phil’s face: the tiredness in his eyes, the blue crackling just a little as his face split in two. He was so close, close enough that she could count every eyelash surrounding the blue eyes that she loved so much. So close she could feel his breath on her skin. So close she could taste the coffee on his lips.

 

_Unprofessional._ That was the word. But if Melinda could choose any word to describe their first kiss after four weeks it wouldn’t be that.  _Soft._ Her bottom lip gently brushing against his.  _Warm._ His lips, tinged with the dregs of his coffee, felt so good against hers.  _Wanton._ She could feel Phil’s moan reverberate against her fingers as she stroked the length of his throat.  _Aching._ Every breath from both of them was laboured, painful, both of them struggling to breathe between each kiss.  _More._

“ _Phil,”_ Melinda sighed, her fingers clutching at his collar. “Phil…”

 

He pulled away first. Not just enough to allow them to breathe, _no._ Phil pulled away far enough to leave a _chasm_ between their bodies. He stuffed himself into the furthest corner of his car, hand gripping the inside door. His face was flushed, his eyes dark. Their first kiss had produced the same signs. But now Phil looked ashamed. His eyes were downcast, refusing to look at her. She’d crossed the line.

 

“I think we should go now,” Phil said after a beat or two, his hand reaching inside his pockets for the car keys. “I think we both need some sleep.”

 

“I think that’s a good idea.”

 

Melinda wasn’t used to feeling foolish. She usually had such control over her actions, knew the outcome before she even begun. But with Phil she just couldn’t helpherself. Sitting back as they finallypulled away from the road, Melinda risked taking a look at her partner. She expected him to be focussed on the road, his hands clenched around the wheel and his mouth twisted in a grimace. Instead she caught him touching his mouth, fingers tracing where her lips had just been. His smile was unmistakeable.

 

\--

 

After a fleeting visit to the Triskelion, Phil and Melinda were back where it had all started: her apartment. They’d driven back in silence; the radio another casualty of Phil’s beaten up corvette. Melinda had stepped out of his car first, Phil following shortly after. She didn’t say goodbye, didn’t tell him to stay in his car. He gravitated to her, staying by her side all the way to her front door. Melinda pushed the key card in, her door opening with a _click._ It swung open onto her dark, empty apartment.

 

This wasn’t how she wanted to spend the night after her first day at the Triskelion. She wanted stories, loud and detailed until three in the morning. She wanted beer, something bitter and cold that would go down well after a long day. She wanted her partner, standing at least two steps behind her. Melinda wanted him by her side.

 

“I know it’s late, but do you want a beer? Toast our first day and all?” Melinda shrugged, hoping with all her heart that he would say yes. 

 

Phil hesitated, but he nodded. “Sure, why not?”

 

Melinda closed the door behind them. Phil slipped off his jacket, tossing it onto the back of her couch. She watched him roll up his sleeves, then sag against the fabric and hang his head. The day had not been kind to his suit, the tie crumpled in the foot well of Phil’s car along with taco wrappers and discarded coffee cups. But then the day had not been kind to either of them. Too many hours in the car had left Melinda with stiff muscles.

 

Sighing, she went to retrieve two beers; hoping that would help ease the sting. A draining mission, an unexpected kiss. “One hell of a first day, huh?” Melinda said as she passed Phil his beer.

 

He nodded, clinking her bottle with his. “Absolutely. And tomorrow we’ve got to do it all over again.” Her partner paused, took a sip, and then turned his whole body to face her. “So, what was it you wanted to talk about? We never got a chance today.”

 

Melinda deliberately looked away from Phil, hopefully putting an end to this line of talk. They were both tired and she still hadn’t decided how to say it. Best to wait. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

 

“Do you want to switch partners?”

 

“ _No._ ”

 

“Oh, good.” Phil’s shoulders seemed to drop two inches. “I was worried. After what happened in the car today…I thought you might want to switch. We’ve both been a little on edge today but despite everything I still think we make a great team.”

 

Melinda nodded eagerly, crashing beside Phil on the sofa. He seemed so distraught at the thought of losing her. “I thought I told you earlier that the only person I want to be here with is you. It’s not about that. And it’s not important. We can talk about it another time.”

 

“ _Melinda._ ” She looked up at the sound of her name. With his worries behind him, Phil looked relaxed. Happy, even. “We’re friends. Whatever you have to tell me, we are friends. You can trust me; no matter what’s going on, I’ll have your back. I promise.”

 

_Your partner is the person you trust everything with. Trust him with this._

 

They were no good as partners if she couldn’t trust him. She only hoped that Peggy was right. So, after necking some of her beer for courage, Melinda turned to face her friend, her partner. Phil looked so understanding, so supportive already. She hoped he would still be by the end of her confession.

 

“Over the last few weeks I’ve realised I’ve developed feelings for someone.”

 

“Oh.” Phil’s face dropped, the determined smile he had been wearing fading into a frown. “That’s...wow. Are they strong feelings?”

 

Melinda nodded, her head bobbing eagerly. Perhaps a little too eagerly. But if felt good to express it. “I’ve never felt so strongly about someone before. I never wanted to have feelings like this, but I have them. As hard as I’ve tried, I can’t seem to make them disappear.”

 

“It’s difficult. When you’re in love with someone so strongly and they’re all you can think about…you think that spending more time with them will help maybe push those feelings aside, like it was just an…”

 

“…infatuation!” They both laughed, Phil nodding as he agreed with her sentiment. “That’s what I said to Peggy earlier. But those feelings don’t go away just because you want them to. What started as a stupid crush has become something like…”

 

“Love?”

 

She felt her body instantly reject the word, her lips wanting to spit out a rebuttal as easily as her lungs would breathe. But Melinda pushed that aside, instead choosing to stare into the eyes of the man she was falling in love with. She nodded. “I’m terrified.”

 

“I know.” Phil reached for his beer bottle, raising it high and draining a third of it in one go. He kept the bottle close as he posed another question. “So, do I know this guy? He must be pretty incredible.”

 

“You know him.” Phil’s lips thinned as he drained some more of his beer. “He was at the Academy with us. I worked with him in Hand to Hand. _Big_ Captain American fan.”

 

Phil froze, the rim of his bottle resting against his bottom lip. As his movements slowly began to melt, the first thing to emerge was the tiniest flicker of a smile. It kept getting wider; Phil’s breathing growing shaky until her partner had to clutch the back of the sofa just to hold himself together. His first attempt at speech was gibberish. His second was much better. “That guy, huh?”

 

His reaction gave her hope. Still, Melinda was enjoying the safety of this framework. She rested her hand on the back of the sofa; Phil’s fingers within reach should this conversation take the right turn. “That’s the guy. But, I don’t think he likes me like that. He’s made it clear that he wants things to remain professional between us.”

 

“I see.” Melinda felt her heart leap as Phil’s index finger brushed the length of hers. “I think there was probably a miscommunication. This guy, well he likes you. _Really_ likes you. But after Graduation he thought that you weren’t so hot on him. Leaving the way you did.”

 

Recently she’d thought a lot about what it would have been like to stay, to crawl back into Phil’s bed and fall asleep in his arms. Maybe if she’d stayed they’d have had this conversation four weeks ago. “I was scared; I’d never woken up with someone before.”

 

Phil nodded, still smiling as he linked their fingers together. “It’s okay. I could have asked you out for the last four years but I couldn’t get up my nerve.” He paused. “Sorry, I thought I’d skip to the part where we talk about you and me. Talk about how crazy I am about you, how if I thought for a moment you felt so strongly about _me_ I would have never suggested keeping things professional. In fact, I’d be completely on-board with a very non-professional, very naked relationship.”

 

They laughed, both of them sliding closer. Melinda let her right hand stray to the back of Phil’s neck, smoothing the hair at the nape. His left was on her waist, drawing circles through the fabric of her shirt. Unlike the car, this kiss was completely intentional. Lips were tentative, breaking apart for seconds at a time to just smile at each other. Melinda sunk her hands into his hair, pressing her entire body against Phil’s. She forgot how to breathe every time she felt his lips against hers. She forgot how to think when his tongue grazed her bottom lip. But she didn’t want to move away. Not for the world.

 

After a little while, they laid against the back of the sofa. Melinda rested her head on Phil’s shoulder, fingers exploring the triangle of bare skin exposed by his open collar. All the confusion had faded away, replaced by a simplicity she understood. “Just so we’re clear: I’m falling in love with you.”

 

The hand on her waist tightened; the groan in her ear unmistakable. “Then just so we’re clear, I’m falling in love with you too.” A kiss. “For a moment I thought you were going to say you were in love with Harlow.”

 

Melinda snorted, shaking her head. “No. Just you. No one else. _Just you._ ” They had a lot to discuss, a lot of guidelines and boundaries to be established if their partnership was going to work. But all that could wait for tomorrow. “We should probably go to bed.”

 

“You know, this is new and a little scary for both of us. I’m okay with waiting, with taking our time.”

 

She shook her head. “I meant I have to be up in four hours.” They shared a smile. “But you’re more than welcome to stay.”

 

His thumb brushed against her bottom lip, his smile betraying his intentions. “Okay. Lead the way.”

 

Tomorrow they could talk properly about everything. For now, the prospect of bed was a hell of a lot more appealing. Especially when she was going to be sharing it with Phil. Taking his hand, Melinda led her partner from the couch up the stairs to her bedroom. She slowly pushed him to sit on her bed, hands running over his shoulders as she straddled him.

 

“You looked _really_ sexy in that suit today.”

 

Phil laughed, pulling her in for another kiss. “Not _professional_?”

 

She shook her head. “Absolutely not.”

 

Professional was the last thing Melinda wanted him to be. As Phil’s lips met hers, it was clear that he agreed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Agents of SHIELD or any of its characters, or settings - all belongs to Marvel and ABC.
> 
> This is the penultimate chapter! The longest one yet, and the second chapter to deserve that high rating. A massive thank you to everyone who supported my editing woes today, and who were so excited over my teasers. A huge personal thank you to melinda-qiaolian for brainstorming with me. Honestly, this story would not have been finished without your help. So thank you. Enjoy, everyone!

Melinda blinked once, twice; her new apartment coming into view as she left sleep behind her. Normally she would already be up; heading to the kitchen for a cup of tea. She had never been one to enjoy long mornings in bed, craving sleep as a necessity rather than a luxury. But that morning Melinda had no inclination to leave her sheets. As an arm tightened around her waist, she remembered why.

 

Turning softly on her side, Melinda couldn’t help a sleepy smile as she saw her partner. Phil really did look cute as he slept. His face was mashed against the pillow, a little drool at the corner of his mouth. His hair was at odd angles, tufts sticking up in all directions. Melinda was tempted to smooth it down. She was also tempted to smooth her hands against Phil’s bare chest. She wanted to run her fingers along the dents in his hips, the trail of hair leading to his boxer shorts. She wanted all of him.

 

Luckily for her, she had him.

 

“You know, it’s not really polite to stare,” mumbled a sleepy voice beside her. Melinda shifted her gaze to watch Phil open his eyes, the blue orbs immediately seeking hers. He rubbed his face, clearing away the debris from the night before. When he was back in the land of the living, Phil propped his head up and smiled. “I wanted to wake up first this time.”

 

“Maybe next time,” Melinda said, fingers dancing down his bare arm. Phil was grinning and so was she. She couldn’t help it. She didn’t think it was possible to even _be_ this happy. “How did you sleep?”

 

Phil’s hand pressed against the curve of her hip, thumb brushing against the trim of her sleep shorts. “All the better for waking up next to you. How about you? Does this feel…weird?”

 

Melinda considered it, head resting on her hand. She was so used to waking up by herself that it did feel strange sharing her bed with someone else. His arm across her waist, his breath on her cheek, his warmth next to her on the sheets. But seeing Phil’s face, knowing his voice would be the first one she would hear…she couldn’t describe how _right_ it felt to have him sleeping beside her.

 

“I think we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be.” Melinda closed the gap between them, hand sliding against the curve of Phil’s cheek. “Together.”

 

She leant in for a kiss. Soft, sweet, lips lingering just a little too long against each other. As Melinda pulled away, Phil buried a hand in her hair. She could see it now. She could see just how much he loved her with every look.

 

“My mother was right.”

 

“How so?”

 

Phil smiled. “She said good morning kisses were always the sweetest.” Melinda laughed, Phil joining in as he tugged her close for another kiss. This time their lips lingered a little longer, Phil letting out a sigh of contentment before letting her go. “Good morning, Melinda.”

 

“Good morning, Phil.”

 

It was still early; they still had time before work became a necessity. So they continued to lie under her sheets, staring and smiling at each other like a couple of fools in love. Her free hand managed to explore, curling over Phil’s hip and stroking his skin. His own hand was equally exploratory, fingers brushing the waistband of her shorts before grazing the edge of her sports bra. Every touch was followed by a spark, the newness and the exciting nature of Phil’s touch on her skin. It soon became necessary for them to kiss again, mouths firmer this time and not so willing to pull away.

 

Melinda found herself lying on top of her partner, his hand stroking her bare back as his lips massaged hers. It was only when she opened her eyes, Phil kissing the length of her throat, that she realised they had run out of time. “We’re going to be late if you don’t cut that out.”

 

Twisting her hips, Phil spun them both so it was now Melinda pressed against the mattress. Momentary breathless, Phil climbed on top and stole what air she had left. “Let’s not go in. Let’s run away, hole up in a hotel and make love all day.”

 

Melinda gave him an incredulous look, slightly undercut by her hands running up and down his chest. “We both know that that’s not going to happen. For one thing, Peggy and Fury would find us and _kill us_.”

 

“Yeah, you’re right,” Phil relented, sliding his body up and away from hers. Melinda missed his warmth, his closeness. But they had to stop or they would nevermake it into work. Phil offered her his hands, helping her out of bed. Quickly she was wrapped up in another embrace, Phil’s mouth tantalisingly close to hers. “How about this weekend we don’t do anything just…explore this?”

 

“Sounds like a perfect weekend.” Melinda pressed a quick kiss to Phil’s mouth before pushing him in the direction of the bathroom. “Now get in the shower, Coulson, whilst I make us some breakfast.”

 

Phil nodded; shoulders slumped as he padded to the door. He stopped in the frame, body leaning against the wood. He was grinning, tongue pressed against his teeth. Phil looked like he was ready to eat her whole. “I noticed when you moved in thatthere’s room for two in your shower. It would conserve time _and_ water if we showered together.”

 

“Not even _you_ believe that.” Melinda knew exactly what would happen if she jumped in there with him. It certainly wouldn’t make them any cleaner, and it certainly wouldn’t be time-saving. “Now get in the damn shower.”

 

Melinda watched Phil make an over dramatic sigh and head into her bathroom. Once he was out, they could eat a little and Melinda could get washed up. Hopefully they would make it on time, even with Phil’s careful driving. Grinning, Melinda practically bounced down the stairs and into her kitchen. She felt like an enormous weight had been lifted, replaced by an incredibly soothing sensation of being loved. Her confusion had gone, her uncertainty and doubts replaced by the excitement of starting something new.

 

Humming along to a song on the radio, Melinda started preparing breakfast. Juice for both of them, yesterday’s stale bagels lightly toasted with plenty of cream cheese. That was the extent of her culinary expertise. But if she was going to be sharing a lot more dinners with Phil, she could practically retire the pizza menu right now.

 

Just as she put the last item on the tray to take into the living room, Melinda felt a pair of arms encircle her. Wet hair teased the nape of her neck as Phil pressed a kiss to her skin. “That smells good.”

 

“Mmm so do you.” Melinda turned in Phil’s arms, teasing the damp strands of his hair. “Did you use the watermelon shampoo my Mom sent?”

 

“Yeah, I hope that was okay,” Phil admitted, smiling when Melinda nodded her assent. “I just need to go out to the car. I have a spare change of clothes in there so I don’t look like I was…”

 

“Thoroughly fucked?” Melinda suggested, adopting an innocent tone that made Phil’s cheeks flush scarlet. She plucked at his crumpled shirt, more a product of a long stakeout than last night’s passions. To both their disappointment, exhaustion had rendered anything more than lips and fingertips impossible. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. It’s not as if people are going to take one look at us and realise we’re together now.”

 

Phil nodded, although Melinda could see the worry he wore. This was _new_ and _exciting_ but still against SHIELD regulations. If their superiors found out they would be sent to opposite sides of the world. They’d just started this. Melinda didn’t want to lose him already. Squeezing his shoulders, Melinda tried to reassure her partner. “I think it’s sensible to keep things professional at work. No kissing, no touching, no displays of affection whatsoever, not even when we’re alone. Is that okay?”

 

“I was hoping you were gonna say that.” Phil’s smile returned, reaching forward to cup her face. “I _loved_ kissing you in the car yesterday but we can’t let that happen again. We need to be professional.” 

 

“And we will be.” Melinda plucked at the buttons of Phil’s half-done shirt. “Of course, right now you can kiss me as much as you want.”

 

“I was hoping you were gonna say that.”

 

Laughing, Phil leant down for another kiss. Melinda wrapped her hands around his neck, pulling them both flush against the countertop. It had all been worth it: the confusion, the hours she spent deliberating. It had all been worth it for this good morning kiss.

 

\--

 

Acting professional was a lot easier in theory than in practice. Hands seemed to end up in the oddest places whilst driving, like the upper thigh. Thumbs brushed against the small of a back in the elevator. Eyes followed lines of clothing, looking up pressed suit pants to starched shirts to a collar not as tight as it should be. Melinda had studied control and precision all her life, keeping her calm through many difficult situations. But today was really pushing her limits.

 

“Okay, can you think of anything else we need to put in?”

 

Melinda blinked; suddenly glad for the distraction. She had been thinking about licking the strip of skin where Phil’s collar didn’t quite meet his neck. She turned and glanced at the full report on yesterday’s surveillance. Whilst it had been as boring as the stakeout, at least writing it had kept them occupied. “Looks good to me.”

 

“Okay, report is done, printing now…” Phil narrated, pressing a few buttons on the computer. “And stop staring. It’s hard to keep my hands to myself when you look like you’re about to jump me.”

 

Melinda snorted, but raised her hands in an apology. With the report signed and sealed, they had nothing left to do. Melinda took position on the opposite side of their desk; giving them both some much needed space. Hopefully something would come along: a mission, some paperwork, even a coffee run. Without something to occupy her, Melinda _really_ wanted to kiss her partner. She _knew_ that she shouldn’t. But that didn’t mean that she couldn’t.

 

“I was thinking maybe we could go out for lunch?” Phil blurted out. “To the deli, or maybe a diner? Just somewhere…outside of work.”

 

Melinda read between the lines, immediately agreeing to his proposal. Taking a personal lunch would ease the pressure they both felt building. “How long until lunch?”

 

“Two and a half hours.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Phil tented his fingers, then unlaced them before squeezing his knees. Melinda tapped her pencil, her knee bouncing as she tried to think of something they could do that didn’t involve making out in the janitorial cupboard. What did normal people do when they were bored and trying to occupy themselves? “So, what did you have in mind for this weekend?”

 

“Other than a lot of sex?” She laughed, Phil too. “I don’t know, we could rent a movie, maybe get a pizza? _Or I could cook for you_. I really want to cook for you.” 

 

“I’d like that.”

 

Phil leant over the table to be closer to her. Melinda mirrored him, almost tempted to reach out and clutch at his hands. But she kept some distance. Phil seemed to appreciate that. “I know this is new and a little confusing for both of us. Honestly, I never thought past telling you how I felt. We know each other pretty well; we hang out all the time. But I’d still like to date you, if that’s okay?”

 

 _Date?_ “Like dinner and a show?”

 

“Yeah, dinner sometimes, maybe even a movie.” Phil took a deep breath and squeezed her hands. Even if the contact was only for a moment, it was still incredible. “I’m falling in love with you and I want a relationship with everything that entails. Though, just to warn you, I’m kind of a corny romantic so I may go all out on Valentine’s Day.”

 

Melinda swallowed, pulling her hands back across the table. _Valentine’s Day_. _Dating_. Like Phil; she hadn’t thought much past confessing her feelings. The future, _a relationship,_ had never seemed to cross her mind.  

 

“God, I’m so excited!” Phil was beaming across the table at her. “I just…I’ve had feelings for you for so long and now we’re together…by the way, when we drive home tonight I want to go into that pre-school two blocks from your apartment. One of the guys in my building was telling me it’s the best pre-school in the area and parents put their kids’ names down three, even _five_ years in advance. We should probably get started on that.”

 

 _Kids?_ Melinda couldn’t breathe. Staring across the table, Melinda watched as the obvious affection Phil felt for her melted into a smirk, his eyes glinting. She’d been played, and played well. “I hate you.”

 

He continued to smirk. “No, you don’t. I think you kind of love me.”

 

“Yes, yes I do.” Smiling, Melinda reached across the table and took his hand. This was exciting and terrifying in equal measure. But she knew Phil would always have her back, would be with her every step of the way. Going to dinner really wasn’t that scary. Not with Phil. _She could do this_. “How about next week you book us a table at a restaurant? It’ll be our first official date.”

 

“I can’t wait.”

 

Melinda felt herself leaning forward, smiling as she watched Phil do the same. His lips were almost on hers before she ducked away. They really needed to remain professional. As tempting as it was when there was no one around, they needed those boundaries. Phil nodded as he pulled back, as if reading her mind. Two hours and twenty minutes to go.

 

Like a prayer had been answered, there was a knock at their door. Agent Barrett was behind it, smiling warmly at them both. “Agent May, Agent Coulson: Agent Himbry would like to see both of you in his office. Bring your things.”

 

 _Shit._ Melinda exchanged a worried glance with Phil, choosing not to look at Barrett as she collected her things. They hadn’t even made it a week and already they were getting kicked out. Maybe it was her challenging Himbry the day before; maybe someone had seen Phil leave her apartment in yesterday’s suit. Either way, Melinda wasn’t going to get washed out without a fight.

 

Barrett led them to Himbry’s office, abandoning them at the door. This time when they walked inside, Himbry gestured to the two seats in front of his desk. Melinda and Phil both took one, impatiently waiting for the axe to fall. Melinda rested her hands on her knees. _She wasn’t going without a fight._

 

“Unclench, Agent May, you’re not getting fired,” Himbry said as he finished signing the last of his paperwork. “In fact, quite the opposite.”

 

Relief washed over her. Their summons was due to something else. “Do you have another operation for us, sir?”

 

Himbry’s hand stilled, looking over his glasses at her. He wasn’t as angry as yesterday when she had challenged him. Something had happened. _Something good._ “As much as it pains me to admit it, I do. The surveillance work you did yesterday uncovered something the other teams I’ve had on Hughes overlooked. Does this car look familiar?”

 

He slid a photograph of the car that Melinda had noticed constantly driving past Hughes’ office. “That’s the car we flagged. Who’s the driver?”

 

“Christine Porter, Hughes’ mistress. She’s just purchased two tickets to the Cayman Islands. It is our belief that Hughes intends to sell the contents of the briefcase there before starting a new life. It’s a good catch. _Very good catch_.”

 

Melinda nodded, feeling proud of herself for picking up on the car. If she hadn’t, they would have missed Hughes leave the country. “What’s the mission, sir?”

 

Himbry slid them two files. Phil took one, opening it up to see information on Himbry and potential buyers. Melinda opened up the other, seeing two plane tickets and two new passports. It seemed like she and Phil were going on a trip.

 

“It’s a retrieval operation. Retrieve the briefcase and the materials inside before Hughes sells them, then pass the briefcase on to a team already working in the Caymans. They’ll handle the rest. You have two first class tickets, two passports, and hotel reservations just in case anyone checks up on you. Further luggage is available downstairs.”

 

 _This_ was the first operation at the Triskelion she had been dreaming about. An operation in the field; retrieving a briefcase full of dangerous materials. Melinda couldn’t help but grin, her mind already racing ahead trying to plan the mission. Her enthusiasm faded when she checked through the paperwork and found the hotel reservations were for the honeymoon suite. Clutching the hotel confirmation in her hand, she looked up at Himbry.

 

“Agent Barrett was one of your assessors for your Misrepresentation exam. She was incredibly impressed by your undercover skills. As newlyweds, you should be fairly invisible. If it’s a problem, I can always find another set of agents who would be _more_ than willing to take up this assignment?”

 

Melinda glanced at Phil. Both of them looked nervous, hands a little shaky, eyes a little big. But Melinda noticed the slight crease of Phil’s smile, the spark of excitement in his eyes. Their training was impeccable, their skills tailor-made for such an operation. Even in such an _intimate_ operation they would be _more_ than capable of keeping their professional and personal feelings separate.

 

Nodding at Phil, Melinda returned to Himbry. “When do we start?”

 

They could handle this. They were professionals.

 

\--

 

“Sir, ma’am? Excuse me…sir, _ma’am?”_

Melinda forced herself away from Phil, fingertips immediately pressing against her swollen lips. It had felt so good to kiss him, to feel his lips press against hers and his hand nestle against the small of her back. Glancing around, Melinda realised that they were now at the front of the queue. Feeling herself flush uncharacteristically pink, Melinda grabbed Phil’s hand and headed to the desk.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Melinda said, offering the flight attendant an embarrassed smile. “We just-we got married yesterday and I…” She squeezed her partner’s hand. “I’m finding it hard to keep my hands off of him.” 

 

From Phil’s beaming smile, she knew he understood that remark wasn’t just their cover. Not that he could talk: as soon as they’d been packed into the cab with two suitcases full of fake luggage he had been just as bad. It was little things like holding her hand or pressing her knuckles to her lips. Phil was addicted to touching her and Melinda didn’t mind one bit. 

 

“Sir, _ma’am_?” The flight attendant was trying to get their attention again. “Your bags, did anyone else pack your suitcases or ask you to bring anything on the flight?”

 

“No, not a thing. We packed them ourselves.” In reality, a team of SHIELD agents had been responsible; choosing typical luggage for honeymooners in case anyone thought to check. Phil had read the manifest out in the car, eyes bulging at the amount of lingerie in Melinda’s suitcase. “Although I’m not sure how much we’re gonna need.”

 

Beside her, Phil made a mock gasp before reaching for his new wife. “ _Maggie,_ come on! Don’t say things like that.”

 

“Steven, get _real._ Everyone knows what newlyweds get up to on their honeymoons.”

 

Phil’s hands pressed against her ass, pulling her a little too close for the comfort of the queue behind them. “Yeah, well why don’t you show me?”

 

“Maybe I will.”

 

Suddenly their passports and tickets were thrust in between them, stopping the lurid display before it took place. They turned to the flight attendant leaning over the desk, desperate to hold their attention for a little longer. Phil took the tickets sheepishly, shoving them in the pocket of his shorts. “Thank you, ma’am.”

 

“You’re welcome. Both of you are in first class, and the airline has upgraded you to our complimentary honeymoon package.  You’re in seats 7a and 7b. Have a pleasant flight.”

 

Phil slipped an arm around her as they headed towards the security gate. Melinda glanced behind them and saw Hughes waiting in line. He had another eight, nine people in front of him before he was checked in. That gave them enough time to move through security and set up their plan for surveillance on board the flight. So far, their operation was proceeding as planned. Their cover was intact and they were well within the bounds of professionalism.

 

“Hands, Phil, _hands._ ”

 

Her partner didn’t look too chastised. “Sorry. Just…getting into character.”

 

Melinda rolled her eyes as they headed for the security gate. They emptied their pockets, both of them making a big deal of checking with the security attendant whether they could keep their new wedding rings on through the metal detector. Thankfully their distraction was enough so neither attendant noticed the lead lined container in their bags. Melinda really hoped they wouldn’t need what was inside.  

 

“Thanks again!” Phil said, patting the security guard on the shoulder as they grabbed their bags. “Well that was easier than expected. Hughes reached security yet?”

 

Just to the left of the metal detector, Melinda paused to smooth down Phil’s shirt whilst in reality she confirmed Hughes’ position. “Not yet. We have a little time.”

 

“Good. I’m thinking we do a bump and lift, check the seating on their tickets so we don’t have to search through the whole plane.”

 

“Agreed. I’ll pull off the lift, you can distract him.”

 

Phil dropped his head on the pretence of another kiss.  His lips brushed her cheek, his smile a little too wide. “Why do you get to do the lift? I know you’re the specialist, but I’m more than capable.”  

 

Melinda slid her hands against Phil’s chest. “It’ll look less suspicious if I’m the one doing the lift. Plus, I’m better at it.” Pulling away from her partner, Melinda tossed him his wallet. “Captain America, really?”

 

“It has a little shield as the catch!” Phil followed her, throwing his arms around her waist. “Okay, I concede. I’ll be the distraction. It’s probably for the best. An incoming plane would probably confuse me for control lights in this shirt.”

 

With the plan set, they continued their way to the gate; positioning themselves in the first class lounge for a better vantage point. As Phil went to get them some water, Melinda relaxed against one of the lounge chairs. Today had been crazy: one moment they were bored in their office, trying not to kiss and the next they were on an operation which depended on them making out like crazy. Melinda was glad that they still had the same chemistry undercover as they did before. At least there was nothing false about her feelings this time.

 

“You look happy,” Phil said as he sat down beside her. One hand passed her a bottle of water; the other slid around her shoulders. “I know what it is; it’s seeing me, isn’t it?”

 

Melinda nodded, marvelling at the surprise on Phil’s face. His beaming smile made her stomach churn. She felt like a fool, like she should have better control over her emotions. But she was quickly learning that how she felt didn’t need to be controlled. It needed to be embraced. “I’m always happy to see you.”

 

“Good. Because I feel the exact same way.

 

They both smiled, both taking a moment to breathe before the next phase of their operation began. Melinda rested her head against Phil’s shoulder, fingers toying with the sunglasses slotted into the opening of his shirt. She felt his lips plant a kiss to the crown of her head, felt his hand take and hold hers. After a trail of kisses along her temple and forehead, Melinda looked up at her partner. “You okay?”

 

“I am. Mostly because I’ve just realised we’re in a waiting room with no old woman glaring at us or yelling at us.” Phil beamed. “I wanted to kiss you so badly that day.”

 

There was still time before Hughes arrived. Time enough to right one past wrong. Sliding her hand up Phil’s chest to rest against the back of his neck, Melinda looked up at Phil and parted her lips. “Kiss me now.” 

 

Their lips touched: a light kiss just to test their boundaries. No one tutted at them or tried to gain their attention. Phil pushed forward for another kiss, lips lingering for a fraction longer before he sunk into their embrace. Eyes closed, his mouth softly suckled on her bottom lip. Melinda followed it with a flick of her tongue. When Phil opened his eyes, they were more black than blue.

 

Putting aside his carryon bag, Phil turned so he was flat against the lounge chair. Melinda crawled into his lap, pulling him as close as they could be whilst still wearing clothes. His hands sunk into her hair, fingers running along her scalp. This time their kiss was deep, lips pressed messily against each other. An occasional stroke of tongue; a momentary gasp of breath. Melinda could feel her heart beating in her ears; and she wanted nothing more than to focus on her partner’s touch. 

 

“Kiss my neck,” Melinda sighed, breaking their kiss to pull her hair from her shoulders. Phil eagerly redirected his attentions, kissing the length of her neck before finding that spot behind her ear that drove her crazy. Groaning, Melinda buried her face against Phil’s shoulder, nipping at all the bare skin she could find. He was such an amazing kisser. She could spend all day kissing him. But that wasn’t really an option. Not today.

 

Threading her fingers through Phil’s hair, Melinda tugged her partner away. “We’ve got something to do.”

 

Phil shrugged. “We are doing something. We have to maintain a strong cover, and, personally I think giving you a hickey is the best way to maintain that cover.”

 

Melinda laughed, reaching over to knot her arms around his neck. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Hughes and his mistress arrive. She swatted Phil when she felt his lips press against her throat. “Hughes is here.”

 

The change was instant. Phil kept his hand on her waist, but his eyes turned to the world outside. They both watched Hughes take his seat, his hand clutched tightly around his tickets. It would be a hard lift, but not impossible.

Melinda pressed her lips against the shell of Phil’s ear. “Think we can work with that?” 

 

“Absolutely.” Phil took her hand, pressing a lingering kiss to the knuckle of the finger that wore her wedding ring. “Let’s get to work.”

 

\--

 

Hughes was seated in first class, three rows in front and one row across from Phil and Melinda. They had a perfect vantage point of the briefcase and Hughes and anyone he talked to. The initial lift had been difficult, but not impossible. Phil and his overeager carryon had seen to that. Hughes hadn’t suspected a thing, so wrapped up in his nerves. That hadn’t changed, even when boarding. As soon as their target was seated he was fiddling with the controls to let a stream of cold air hit his face.

 

“I hate nervous people,” Phil whispered, his mouth thinning in worry. “They always do something stupid.”

 

“Agreed.” As Phil turned away, Melinda risked a glance in Hughes’ direction. “We’ll have to be careful.”

 

As more people boarded, their surveillance took a back seat so they could maintain their cover. Giggling, Melinda reached around and hugged Phil’s waist, chin resting on his shoulder. Her partner smiled, reaching down to place a saccharine kiss to the tip of her nose. Laughing and smiling they climbed into their seats and immediately made sure that as much of their bodies were touching as was decent. Hands were held; heads rested on shoulders; lips pressed in a series of butterfly kisses.

 

“ _This is your Captain speaking…”_

With one final kiss, they parted and began to prepare for take-off. Phil’s hand remained tucked around hers. Melinda appreciated the gesture, the firm feel of someone by her side. There was no going back now. Sucking in a breath, Melinda mentally prepared herself for the next step in their mission. “You ready for this?”

 

Phil squeezed her hand. “Absolutely.”

 

The flight attendants demonstrated all the necessary safety features, the blonde in front smiling vivaciously as she gestured to the escape routes. Melinda tried to pay attention, she really did _._ But as a qualified pilot it was difficult to feign interest in something that she was already aware of. So Melinda focussed on Hughes. She would put money on him getting a drink the momentthe seatbelt light was turned off. They were going to have to be exceptionally careful.

 

As the plane started to ascend, the grip around her hand tightened. Melinda turned her attention from Hughes to her partner, watching a muscle in Phil’s cheek twitch. She rubbed his arm, relaxing his nerves whether they were from the operation or flying or just because his _cover_ hated flying. It was hard to tell. Phil was very good at undercover. She was just grateful that she knewhis feelings were real.

 

When the plane reached the desired altitude and the seatbelt light came off, Melinda immediately sought out Hughes and whether her hunch had been correct. But her view was blocked by the beaming blonde flight attendant carrying two glasses of champagne.

 

“Hi there, welcome aboard! _Congratulations to the pair of you._ Here are two complimentary glasses of champagne for you newlyweds!”

 

Drinking alcohol wasn’t prohibited on undercover operations, especially as part of a cover. Yet Phil was still tentative as he took the champagne from the attendant, passing one to his left for Melinda. Grinning at the woman, they both raised their glasses to her and then each other before taking a sip.

 

“I’ll be right back with the rest of the bottle and your strawberries. Congratulations again!”

 

As soon as the attendant left, Phil leaned over for a kiss. It was soft, his lips tasting of warm champagne. Smiling, Melinda opened her mouth, encouraging his lips to suckle at her own. The tiniest flicker of her tongue, trying to catch more of the champagne on Phil’s lips, was rewarded by a moan caught at the back of her partner’s throat. When they took a moment to breathe, Melinda realised that every eye in first class was avoiding them. _They were invisible._

 

The sound of the attendant returning stopped a repeat performance, although neither of them strayed very far. Phil’s head rested on her shoulder, her fingers teasing his scalp. The flight attendant stood and watched them, sighing contently.

 

“You two are just _so_ cute!” The attendant smiled. “Here is your bottle of champagne, compliments of the airline.” She left the bottle in an ice bucket placed between them. Alcohol was a slippery slope; they would have to be very careful how much they drank. “And here are your strawberries…My husband spent the whole flight to Cancun feeding me strawberries. It was just _magical_.”

 

“I bet it was!” Melinda said, squeezing her new husband’s arm. “This one’s so romantic. He woke me up this morning with a rose and then breakfast in bed. I’ve really found my Prince Charming.”

 

Phil beamed, seemingly content to be snuggled by her. Melinda took another sip of her champagne and tried not to choke on the bile she felt rising in the back of her throat. The attendant didn’t notice a thing. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but I _love_ hearing people’s stories. How did you both meet? It was love at first sight, wasn’t it?”

 

“It was for me,” Phil said quickly, squeezing her hand. “I saw her the first day of college and a part of me knew that she was it, she was the one. Of course it took me a little while to get up the courage to talk to her, let alone ask her out.”

 

“But once we finally started talking, it didn’t take me long to realise that he was the only person I wanted.” Melinda laced their fingers together. “I’d never fallen so hard or so fast. And when he asked me to marry him I wasn’t nervous or scared. I was excited to start my life with him.”

 

The attendant was still smiling, eagerly hanging on to every word. Some of the other couples in first class had leaned in to listen, thankfully not Hughes and his mistress. They needed to wrap this up quickly, lest they lose the invisible status granted to newlyweds.

 

“What was the wedding like?”

 

“Oh, it was _magical,_ ” Phil supplied, immediately bouncing forward to explain their big day. “We got married in this beautiful botanic garden with all these flowers and so much sunlight. It was so beautiful, but my baby outshone everything.” He turned to her, putting on a puppy love expression that unsettled her stomach.  “She was so beautiful. Everyone was crying, including my mother. It was just the perfect day. And every day afterwards has just been a little more perfect because she’s my wife.”

 

“Baby…” Melinda sighed softly. She kept biting her lip, trying to put on an equally doe eyed expression of love. Thankfully everyone seemed to buy it, and as the attendant moved away, everyone returned to another form of in-flight entertainment.

 

With their audience gone, Melinda and Phil could relax. She reached for the bottle, topping up both their glasses. They’d get through more of the bottle than they’d thought if the rest of the flight was like that. They weren’t the only ones. Hughes was on his second drink already. “You’re good at this.”

 

“I’ve had a lot of practice. Four years being a doe eyed cadet with a crush….” Phil took one of the strawberries, dunking the tip in his glass. “Strawberry?”

 

Suddenly the cover was back on. Smirking, Melinda leaned over saucily and bit down on the soft strawberry her partner was offering her. The taste of the berry and the champagne exploded in her mouth, Melinda dabbing at her lips to catch all the juices. She took another strawberry from the bowl and bathed it in the champagne. She then lifted it to Phil’s mouth, smiling as he parted his lips. He slowly chewed the strawberry, grinning as Melinda used her thumb to clean his mouth.

 

Leaning in, Melinda took Phil’s earlobe between her teeth. “Meet me in the bathroom in about ninety seconds.”

 

“ _What?”_ Phil seemed to be torn between utter delight and confusion. He leant in closer, eyes downcast to hide their conversation from the other passengers. “Whilst I want you, in the _worst_ possible way, this isn’t exactly the best time _or_ place for this.”

 

Melinda rolled her eyes. “Hughes is drinking more than expected; I think we need to alter our plans. We can’t talk out here. So meet me in the bathroom, we’ll brainstorm.”

 

“They’ll think we’re having sex.”

 

She shrugged. “Well, I think a heavy make out session should keep our cover maintained.”

 

Melinda pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, holding his gaze as she swung her body over his.  Walking down the aisle, she kept staring, enticing him to follow her. Whilst it would be tempting to push Phil against the thin wall of the in-flight bathroom and have him push her over the edge, they still had an operation in play. Although as she reached the bathroom and found Phil’s hand on the curve of her hip, Melinda decided it was always possible to mix a little business and pleasure.

 

\--

 

Melinda had never been to the Cayman Islands before, but she certainly wanted to stay. Warm weather, golden beaches, attractive islanders…it was a shame they were heading to the airport straight after they retrieved the briefcase. Everything so far had gone according to plan: they’d found out where Hughes was seated, they had kept him and the briefcase under surveillance during the flight. At the airport they watched him in shifts whilst they changed ahead of the next stage of their mission: retrieval.

 

“Okay, I got us a rental car for a couple of hours,” Phil explained as he joined her, catching a glimpse of Hughes before turning away. “How long do you think it’ll take him to make the exchange?”

 

Melinda frowned, watching Hughes and his mistress argue by the baggage claim. “I’d say not long, he’ll probably want to get rid of it as soon as possible. Let’s hope we get a chance to retrieve it before he makes the exchange.”

 

Phil nodded, mouth fixed in a thin line as they walked concurrently with Hughes out of the airport. He put his arm around her, both of them still trying to maintain their cover. But it was hard when there was so much at stake. Their focus needed to be on retrieval. One wrong look, one mistimed kiss, and their window of opportunity disappeared. They followed Hughes to the kerbside and watched the pair step into a cab. Their car was already gassed up and waiting for them.

 

Melinda followed the cab through a stream of traffic, keeping an eye on the flow and making sure she was never closer than two car lengths behind him. She turned when she needed to, cut up a couple of drivers who would have put them too far behind for a tail. Beside her, Phil looked impressed at her skills. Any fear of her being behind the wheel was gone. _Good._ Maybe now she’d finally get him on her bike.

 

“He’s stopping at a hotel.”

 

She drove on, parking in a bay just ahead of the hotel and rolled down her window as if asking for directions. Phil opened the map in the glove compartment, one eye fixed on the hotel at all times. “Looks like Ms Porter’s not coming to the drop.”

 

As the cab pulled away again, Melinda continued her tail. They drove for another ten minutes along the beach line until the car pulled to a stop. A visibly shaking Hughes stepped out, knuckles white around the handle of the briefcase. The exchange was going down in front of a seafood restaurant, completely out in the open with no easy way to get the briefcase out of Hughes’ tight little hands. Just like the tickets earlier, their mission just got a hell of a lot harder.

 

“What are you thinking?” Phil asked. “Do you think we should wait and see if he goes inside?”

 

Melinda frowned, watching Hughes intently. “I don’t think he’s going inside. This is the Caymans; the money is probably being wired. They just want the item from him directly. I would say it’s probably going to be a simple switch. We need to move fast. We’ll use the dummy briefcase.”

 

They both got out of the car with haste, the urge to move quickly increasing every time someone came close to Hughes. Phil prepared the dummy briefcase whilst Melinda tried to think of an alternative method of retrieval. They needed to get the briefcase out of his hands before they could switch it out, but he was clutching at it like a life preserver.

 

“I think I’ve got an idea,” Phil said as they started to approach Hughes’ position. “But I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

 

“Anything to complete this mission.”

 

“You’re going to have to swoon.”

 

Melinda paused for a split second, eyebrows raised as she stared at her partner in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

 

Phil held his hands out, urging her to listen. “You faint close to him, he’ll catch you. I switch out the briefcases and then we’re off to the airport. This is the only distraction I can think of that’ll make him drop the briefcase”

 

As they drew closer to Hughes, Melinda realised Phil was right. Any distraction would have to be direct, and the usual favourites of a flirtatious partner or the bump and drop wouldn’t really work here.  Sighing, Melinda resigned herself to having to faint. She only hoped that Hughes wasn’t too inebriated to catch her. As they continued their walk, Melinda got herself ready. Pulling her hair into a ponytail and taking off her wedding ring, she hoped that Hughes was _that_ inebriated that he wouldn’t remember them from the plane.

 

“Melinda.” Phil reached out, grasping her hand and pulling her into a kiss. It was deep, passionate; as if Phil was afraid he was never going to see her again. When he let her go, Melinda felt a little lightheaded. Maybe this fainting thing would be easier than she thought. “Good luck.”

 

Grinning, Melinda made her way over to Hughes. She calculated the exact position where she would have to start the process, the exact position where she would have to fall. A couple of feet away from Hughes she started clutching at her head, swaying from side to side. That caught his attention, his fingertips loosening on the briefcase. When he was close enough to catch her, that’s when she fell. Melinda heard the briefcase clatter to the floor, but thankfully didn’t feel the pain of her head hitting concrete.

 

“Are you okay?” Hughes asked, helping her sit up. “Do you need some water?”

 

Melinda nodded, and Hughes unscrewed the cap of his bottle. She took a grateful sip as she watched Phil switch out the briefcases. It was as simple as Phil dropping them side by side and picking up the one furthest away. That was it, their first operation complete. All that was left was to give the briefcase to the SHIELD team on the ground.

 

Melinda slowly got to her feet, happy that things were finally over. She patted Hughes on the chest, giving him a grateful smile. “Thank you so much. A little too much time on the beach, I think. I’m going to go find my boyfriend, get him to take me back to the hotel.”

 

Hughes nodded, immediately picking up his briefcase. “Well, if you’re sure you’re alright.”

 

“I am. That’s actually him now.” Phil came running up behind them, having stowed the briefcase in the back of their car. Hughes wouldn’t suspect a thing. “Babe, I had a fall. Could you take me back to the hotel?”

 

“Sure we can, baby, are you okay?” Phil slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her in for a hug. She could feel him tremble, the same as her. Just a few moments to go and they would be home free. Phil looked over her head to smile at Hughes. “Thanks, Mister. Thanks so much. Come on, baby, let’s get you inside.”

 

Melinda leant into Phil, happy to have him as an anchor as they walked towards the car. She could feel her body start to unwind, the tension of the last day unravel in the pit of her stomach. Their first real mission had been a resounding success. Their covers had been maintained, they’d retrieved the briefcase. Altogether it had certainly been an amazing second day at SHIELD. She wondered what would be next.

 

She was about to ask Phil that same question when she was dragged out from under him, a wide forearm cutting her across the throat. Looking up, Melinda realised it was Hughes gripping her firmly against him. He looked crazed, spittle hanging from the corner of his mouth. Something had happened. Had the buyer let him on to their switch?

 

“Mister, is there a problem?” Phil asked, eyes darting everywhere and confusion lacing his tone. Playing it safe was their only option in such a public place. 

 

“Yes, there is a _fucking_ problem!” Melinda could smell the alcohol on his breath as he hissed at Phil. He held the briefcase up, banging it against his leg. “They told me to expect a switch, so I put a white mark on the corner before I left the airport. _This briefcase has no white mark. Where’s my_ _fucking briefcase?”_

 

Melinda felt him rootling around in his waistband. Whether it was for a gun or a knife it didn’t matter. It took barely a second for her training to kick in, slamming an elbow straight into his side. Winded, Hughes didn’t even resist as she carried his momentum over her shoulder and he crashed to the ground below. Phil immediately went to her side, checking her over before his hand lingered on her cheek. They both stared at Hughes moaning below them.

 

“That was _amazing,_ not sloppy at all,” Phil said, Melinda laughing weakly as she remembered all too well the last time she’d done that move. “Should we leave him here?”

 

Melinda shook her head. “No. Call it in.” 

 

Phil nodded, glancing between her and Hughes before he went to the car to call their contact on the ground. Taking a deep breath, Melinda attended to Hughes. He was now unconscious, but he wasn’t bleeding. She checked his pockets, trying to find any hint to the buyer. She found an address book, a list of names and numbers written in code. There was also a small pistol. Whether Hughes would have aimed it at her or Phil, she didn’t know. But she wouldn’t have let him hurt her partner. 

 

Standing up, Melinda took a deep breath. First real operation; first real action. _Now_ she felt like a real SHIELD agent. 

 

\--

_“And where is the briefcase now?”_

Melinda pressed the phone closer to her ear, trying to hear above the bustling sound of the Grand Cayman coast. “With Agent Ryan. The local police took custody of Hughes, charged him with the drunken assault of two tourists. He’s got no recollection of the assault, nor of the switch. His buyers will probably try and get the briefcase whilst he’s in custody.”

 

Himbry made a noise on the other end of the line. Melinda couldn’t tell whether it was a sound of approval or discontent. _“Probably for the best. It seems that Mister Hughes wasn’t as stable as we thought._ ”

 

Melinda snorted. That was an understatement. “People do stupid things when they’re nervous.”

 

_“What?”_

“Nothing, just…something Coulson said to me.

 

Himbry paused. “ _I see. How are you both holding up?”_

Melinda sighed. It wasn’t the first time that she had been in a fight, and from the stories that he’d told her, it wasn’t Phil’s first rodeo either. But it was the first time they had seen action in the field. They were both exhausted; physically and mentally spent. Once they’d had a little time to breathe, maybe a couple of cocktails in the bar downstairs, they would be able to compress and move on. They would have to; otherwise they were in the wrong line of work.

 

“We’re doing fine, sir.” Melinda watched through the glass as Phil walked out of the hotel bathroom, towel around his waist. She licked her lips as she followed the trail of water trickling to the edge of the towel. “Are we still clear for the eight pm flight back to D.C?”

 

_“I’ve discussed the situation with Agent Ryan, and he wants you both to remain in the Caymans overnight in case the buyer surfaces. Your current hotel room is booked for one night; and a fresh set of clothes and new aliases are being delivered for yourself and Agent Coulson. If everything goes according to plan, Ryan will pick you up for extraction at eight am sharp. I’ll expect your report by the end of tomorrow.”_

“Yes, sir.” Exhausted, Melinda sagged against the brickwork. With the briefcase retrieved and Hughes in custody, Melinda had hoped to catch that last flight back. She’d wanted to wash the Caymans off her, sleep and wake up in her own bed. But Melinda was sure that she and Phil could find something to do. “Is that all, sir?”

 

Himbry cleared his throat. “ _Not quite. You came onto the Hughes case late, but your involvement has been noted. Agent Ryan was especially complimentary about the way you retrieved the briefcase and disarmed Hughes. Agent Barrett is working an operation next week; she’s requested you and Agent Coulson specifically to assist. I’ve found your performance…satisfactory enough to agree to her request. Get some rest, Agent. You’ve earned it.”_

Smiling, Melinda pressed the ‘end’ button. That was probably the closest she would get to a compliment from Himbry, but she would take it. Still smiling, Melinda pushed through the balcony doors back into the hotel. Phil sat on the bed, towel still wrapped around his waist and perusing the room service menu. He grinned as she tossed the phone onto the pillows and crawled over to sit beside him.

 

“Was that Himbry on the phone?”

 

“Mmm.” Melinda lay down beside Phil, head resting beside his thigh. Above her, Phil smiled lazily as he brushed the dark strands fanning over the sheets. “Bad news, we have to stay in the hotel room tonight just in case Ryan wants our assistance.”

 

Phil sighed theatrically. “How terrible. Stuck with a beautiful woman, in a beautiful hotel room, in a beautiful city. How _am_ I gonna cope?”

 

Propping herself up, Melinda leant forward for a kiss which Phil eagerly reciprocated. “I’m sure we’ll manage. But for now, I’m going to jump in the shower. ” _Wash Hughes off me._ “Are you doing okay? About how our operation ended?”

 

Phil paused for a moment before he simply shrugged. “It’s our line of work now. I’m not going to lie; I was terrified something was going to happen to you. _For a moment_. And then I realised I should be more scared for Hughes.” Melinda smiled, grateful when Phil gave her another kiss. “Are _you_ okay?”

 

“It didn’t really bother me. Training kicked in, the situation was neutralised.” She would still feel better after a long shower. Melinda squeezed his hand as she reluctantly left Phil behind on the sheets. “Do you want to get some room service?”

 

Phil leant back against the pillows, flicking through the menu once more. “Only if SHIELD’s picking up the tab. And I thought some places in D.C. were expensive. What are you hungry for?”

 

“I don’t know.” Melinda said, brushing out her long, dark hair. After leaving the brush on the dresser, she reached for Phil and gave him the tiniest kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Surprise me.”

 

Leaving her partner grinning in bed, Melinda walked into the adjacent bathroom. She stripped off her clothes, grateful that another set would be arriving soon. She didn’t want to smell like Hughes any longer than she had to. Stepping into the shower, Melinda set it one notch before scalding and just stood, letting the spray wash over her. It had been a long day, and Melinda was happy to scrub the operation from her skin. She stood under the water for a while, content to let the pounding water relax her muscles. After the water stopped, she wrapped herself in one of the robes hanging up. The faux silk fabric felt luxurious against her skin.  

 

Stepping back into the bedroom, towel rubbing her hair, she saw Phil hanging up the house phone. “Room service?”

 

“Hawaiian pizza and ice cream sundaes will be at our door in about half hour.” Phil grinned, turning so his legs spilled over the side of the bed. “I can’t imagine a more perfect way to end our first operation.”

 

“Then maybe you’re not thinking hard enough.”

 

Melinda stepped in between Phil’s legs, the towel widening to accommodate her. She pressed her hands against his bare shoulders, thumb brushing his collarbone. Phil swallowed, trying to look anywhere but at the robe clinging to her sodden form. “Melinda, I thought we decided to keep work and our relationship separate.”

 

“And we have. As soon as Hughes turned up in the lounge we stopped kissing. We didn’t have sex on the plane even though we both wanted to.” Sliding her hands down his chest, Melinda leant forward. “Mission’s _done_. It’s just _us_. We’re in a gorgeous hotel room, we’re both half naked, and I want you to take me to bed.”

 

A wide, lustful grin bloomed over her partner’s face. “You’re right. What the hell are we waiting for?”

 

Phil reached forward, hands tentatively grasping the tie of her robe. With her encouragement, Phil undid the knot and let the sides fall open. He swallowed as he gazed upon her naked form, his legs widening even further. “Can I kiss you?”

 

Brushing her hand through Phil’s damp hair, Melinda nodded. “Yes.”

 

His lips didn’t meet her mouth, instead they pressed against the plains of her stomach. Melinda buried her fingers in Phil’s hair, coaxing him further as he left a trail of open mouthed kisses all the way to the underside of her breasts. Head thrown back, Melinda groaned as Phil’s mouth explored her bare skin. His touch was light yet sensitive, moving quickly from place to place but returning to spots that made her fingers tighten in his hair. Phil took a nipple between his lips and sucked, his fingers stroking her side until they, too, were on her breast. She was becoming lightheaded, Phil’s touch making her dizzy. 

 

“You’re amazing,” Phil said between kisses to her breasts, his hands now sliding up to slip the robe from her shoulders. Teeth grazed the sensitive skin of her clavicle, his fingers continuing to tease her nipples. “You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

 

Turning towards Phil, she met him for a soft, languid kiss. She felt a groan build up in the back of her throat as he increased the pressure on her nipple, just enough to bite. “Is that okay?”

 

She nodded, throwing her hair back so Phil could touch another spot that made her wild. “Absolutely.”

 

Her partner continued to touch her, almost worship her as his fingers explored and teased, stroked and plucked to find the spots that made her keen. Melinda could feel her arousal build, could feel herself growing wetter with every touch. Phil’s lips alternated between her throat and her mouth, both of them craving something they couldn’t put into words. As his tongue licked at her lips, Melinda took one of the hands from her breasts and pushed it down. She helped him spread her pussy, helped him stroke through her wetness. Phil’s panting groan against her neck only increased her arousal.

 

“You’re so wet,” Phil whispered, his fingers sliding through her folds. Despite the haziness of his gaze, Phil knew just where to touch. “You’re so wet for me.”

 

Melinda could feel her pleasure building, and with every well placed touch she was coming closer to the edge. But, as her hands reached out to steady herself against Phil’s chest, she realised she wanted to play too. Leaning in, Melinda brushed her lips against his ear. “My turn.”

 

She slowly eased herself away from Phil, feeling the bitter frustration of not finding her release. But there were other ways to find her pleasure. With a gentle push, Phil was once again sitting at the edge of the bed. She knelt between his spread legs, grinning up at her partner. Melinda watched with delight as Phil tentatively sucked his fingers clean, tasting her juices on his skin. As she continued to stare, transfixed, Phil groaned as his finger left his lip with a ‘pop’.

 

“ _So hot_ …” Melinda said under her breath, hands running and nails teasing Phil’s bare torso. “Really, so very hot.”

 

A flush formed over Phil’s cheeks, darkening as Melinda removed the towel barely clinging to Phil’s waist. A line of dark hair led to his hard cock. She felt Phil tense as she saw him in all his glory, no doubt worried over her opinion of his penis. He was longer than her previous lovers, thick but not the thickest. Melinda ran her thumb over the dripping head of his cock, watching with pleasure as Phil’s fingertips buried themselves in his spread thighs.

 

“You’re killing me here,” Phil said, swallowing a groan as she continued to stroke the head of his cock. “Melinda, oh god, _Melinda…_ ”

 

One hand teased his inner thigh, relishing the sounds he made as her nails caught skin. The other teased his cock, stroking the underside until he was almost bucking into her hand. Melinda looked up at her lover, pleased to see how little blue remained in the eyes she loved so much. She continued to tease him; finding spots like the one behind his knee that made him tremble and jerk. Seeing him so undone was a massive turn on.

 

When they both were close, Melinda pulled away. “We need protection.”

 

Phil nodded hazily, lying back against the sheets as Melinda searched through their bags. “Try my wallet; I might have something in there.” He let out another groan, hand reaching down to tease his cock. “I’m so glad we waited until now so it wasn’t at the showers at the Academy, wasn’t in either of our crappy dorm rooms. But in this hotel, in this big bed, where no one can disturb us.”

 

Finding success in Phil’s wallet, Melinda re-joined Phil. “You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?”

 

“Yeah, a lot.” Melinda ripped the foil and handed it to Phil. “Melinda, you were my Academy crush. You were all I thought about.”

 

As soon as Phil was covered, Melinda climbed on top. “You’re all I can think about now.”

 

The world seemed to stop as Melinda sunk down onto Phil. She felt every inch of him inside her, spreading her legs wider to accommodate him. Phil’s hands held her hips and back, holding her position on his lap. She laced her arms around his neck, pressing them nose to nose. She wanted to hold onto this moment, the sensation of having the man she loved inside of her. Melinda could feel something else, something so _intimate_ run through her.

 

Resting herself on Phil’s shoulders, Melinda slowly began to rock herself up and down on his cock. His hands helped, fingertips digging into bare skin. She positioned herself so his cock rubbed against her clit every time she bore down. Her pace quickened, feeling her orgasm approach every time she pushed herself onto Phil’s cock. He was groaning, moaning against her throat every time she moved. Her soft sighs joined his chorus, her body beginning to tremble.

 

A kiss proved to be her undoing. Phil’s lips pressed against her own, the weight of his hands against her body, the sensation of his cock inside of her. Melinda let go, her orgasm flooding her senses until she could barely breathe. She was aware of Phil stiffening underneath her, his fingers tightening on her hips and ass as he spilled himself inside of her.

 

“I love you,” Phil gasped, blue eyes holding hers. He was shaking, his chest heaving as his body tried to calm itself. But his affection, his _love_ for her, was as steady as always. “I love you. I know it hasn’t been that long for you, so-“

 

Melinda cut him off with a smile, her hands cupping his face. “It’s okay. I love you too.”

 

As Phil gathered her up in his arms, dragging them both to the relief of the cold bed sheets, Melinda realised she meant every word. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Agents of SHIELD or any of its characters, or settings - all belongs to Marvel and ABC.
> 
> I started Partners on the 31st July 2014. Now, eight months later, this story is finally finished. It’s been a long journey, but I’ve really loved writing this and I so hope you’ve enjoyed reading it. An amazing thank you to everyone who’s liked it, reblogged it, left kudos or comments or simply read it! And a huge thank you to suallenparker, for without whom this story would not have been started; and to melinda-qiaolian, for without whom this story would not have been finished. 
> 
> Thank you all. Happy reading.

Himbry came into their office one afternoon and offered them the opportunity to present one of the graduate lectures at the Academy. With no operation in play, they both agreed it would be fun to go back. Phil drove, his car repaired since the old days of no air conditioning. Melinda just stared out the window at the passing scenery. It felt strange travelling the old routes, re-treading old roads. But it felt right that she was completing this journey with Phil.

 

“Agent Coulson, Agent May,” a redheaded agent with an Administration badge on her lapel greeted them as they pulled into the Academy gates. “I’m Agent King. If you’d like to follow me, I can give you a tour of the facilities.”

 

Melinda smirked as she pulled her duffel bag from the trunk. “I didn’t think we’d been gone that long.”

 

Six months. Six months and Melinda and Phil had already been on numerous operations, some long-term, others only lasting a couple of days. They’d moved into their own apartments; they visited the Carter household every other Sunday; and most mornings Melinda woke up to Phil beside her. A lot had changed, yet the Academy hadn’t. Melinda could still map a route from class to class, know hiding places that most of the instructors did not. There were still cadets doing sprints and studying from books and pulling pranks.

 

A couple of those cadets turned to watch them walk through the courtyard, whispering as some recalled who they were. “I take it you two left quite an impression on campus.”

 

“Melinda did. She was Queen of Pranks. I just kept my head down.”

 

Melinda pushed that head of his, her partner laughing as they jostled. Eventually they came to the accommodation wing. Melinda stared up at the brickwork, remembering exactly where her room was. “Agent Harding thought it might interest you to see your former rooms. There’s a cadet currently staying in yours, Agent Coulson; but the cadet assigned to your room has already washed out, Agent May. Would you like to go up?”

 

“Please.”

 

They followed King to the third floor, Melinda running her hand along the familiar handrail. Her floor hadn’t changed: it was a little noisier than before, a few more failed practical jokes littering the halls. _Freshmen._ Eventually they reached Melinda’s old room. Phil hung back, letting her have this moment. King inserted a familiar key card into the lock, letting the door swing open. 

 

“They tried to remove some of the marks and indents, but in the end Harding decided to leave the room as is. Said it gave the room _character._ ”

 

Melinda laughed, recalling all the fun she’d had in that room sneaking in or setting up pranks. Whilst she _loved_ her new apartment, loved how it felt to press her key card into the door after a long operation, these four walls would always have a special place in her heart. This room was where she had trained to be a SHIELD agent; this was where she had developed the skills she now used every single day. This was where she had fallen in love with Phil Coulson.

 

“Agent King, I think Agent Coulson and I can find our own way to the guest accommodation.”

 

The redhead nodded. “Of course, take your time. Dinner is at eighteen hundred hours, but I’m sure you remember that. Good day to you both.”

 

Smiling at the departing figure of Agent King, Melinda soon turned back to her old room. It was just like she’d left it on her last morning there, like it was _waiting_ for her to come back. Phil stood behind her, hands cradling her shoulders. “You okay?”

 

“I’m fine. It’s just a little strange to be back.” Offering one last smile to her former home, Melinda reached forward and pulled the door closed. “Come on, there’s somewhere else I want to go to before we settle in.”

 

Phil followed her intently as she led them out of the accommodation building and into the lecture halls. The corridors were empty, the cadets elsewhere. She travelled the familiar halls, caught up in old memories of Clint and Maria, Nate and even _Garrett_ as she walked along. Quickly they found the main lecture hall, the hall where tomorrow they would deliver their seminar on post-graduation life to the seniors. In the projection room, underneath the right panel, Melinda knocked three times out of habit.

 

“Did Clint leave anything up there?” Phil asked as he helped Melinda pull herself inside.

 

She shrugged. “Let’s find out.”

 

Taking her hands, Phil joined her inside the loft. She put the panel back in place before finding the old hurricane lamp that still stood in the corner. If a new cadet was running Clint’s old racket, he’d moved storage spaces. All that was left was a few old cans of soda, several out of date packets of chips. A box of Pop Tarts they must have missed. She tossed those to Phil, smiling at how he lit up. She had a lot of good memories here, fond memories of all her friends.

 

“When we see Clint next week, we’ll have to tell him how much stuff he left behind.” Phil rootled around in the back, finding a couple of dirty magazines their friend had abandoned. Melinda rolled her eyes over her shoulder. “Still like them for the articles.”

 

Melinda dug around herself, her hand settling on a couple of sheets of paper all folded and dusty. She slid them out of their hiding spot; blew the dust from the pages. She couldn’t believe it. _It was the list._

 

“What have you got?”

 

“The provisional placement list for our year.”

 

Phil crossed over the loft to join her; his arms wrapping around her waist, chin nestling in the curve of her shoulder. They looked over the pages together, scanning through the faded print until they found what they were searching for. “Coulson, Philip…Triskelion deployment, assigned with May, Melinda.”

 

Melinda turned to another page. “May, Melinda. Triskelion deployment, assigned with Coulson, Philip. I remember reading those words for the first time in here. I was so upset; I thought it was the end of my career.”

 

“Well, our level two security clearance would say otherwise,” Phil teased, nuzzling the side of her face. She turned, pressing a soft kiss to her partner’s bottom lip. His smile still made her ache. “I love you, Melinda May.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

Their fingers brushed over her name together, the ink faded on the page. This hadn’t been the end like she’d thought it would be all those months ago. Rather, it had been their beginning.

 

\--

 

“So, who has some questions for Agent Coulson and Agent May?”

 

More than a few of the cadets in the audience raised their hands. Agent Harding scanned the crowd, looking for someone with an interesting question. Melinda tried to spot a few familiar faces, but no names came to mind. They all seemed to wear the same expression: the awe of being in the presence of two qualified SHIELD agents stationed at the Triskelion; the nerves that came with the countdown to graduation. Melinda could sympathise. She’d worn that expression once too.

 

Harding finally picked a cadet from the front a row, a brunette with red streaks in her hair. “What’s been your longest running operation? Was it difficult returning to your normal life afterwards?”

 

Back in their old Misrepresentation classes, Agent Willet had always discussed the undercover side of operations. He never talked about leaving a gun by your bedside, or having to spend two weeks sleeping by your partner because it felt strange to sleep alone. He never talked about twitching at car backfires, or not responding to your own name. They’d had to learn that out in the field. As would these cadets. “It was two and a half months; our cover was a young married couple looking to buy a new house.”

 

“It was a lot more interesting than it sounds, _trust me,_ ” Phil added, the cadets tittering at his remark. “But I’m afraid most of the details from that operation are still classified.” More laughter. They’d have to get used to that. “But it _can_ be difficult, getting back into your old headspace. When you’re undercover you become an entirely different person. Letting go of that person can be difficult. It helps to have someone alongside you, to remind you who you are.”

 

Phil grinned, the affection in his eyes hopefully obvious to only her. With the crowd appeased, Harding found another question for them. “Yes, Agent Lewis?”

 

A blonde specialist from the middle row stood up.  “As two agents who seem to constantly be undercover in romantic situations, do you ever find it hard to separate your working relationship and your feelings for each other? I suppose what I’m trying to ask is, have you two ever been _more_ than partners?”

 

There were a few whistles in the crowd, Harding and the other instructors hushing them. Melinda couldn’t help but smirk. That was the sort of question she would have asked if she was in the audience. She looked at Phil, offering him the chance to take this one. But he shook his head, allowing her the floor.

 

“I know this might be hard to believe, but it’s the truth. Agent Coulson and I have never had any trouble separating our working relationship and our feelings for each other. Everything between us is strictly professional.” Looking over at her Phil, Melinda smiled. Hidden from view, his thumb brushed overs hers. “We’re just partners.”


End file.
